Hearts of Ice
by Krista Perry
Summary: A Ranma 1/2 Tale of adventure and romance, myth and magic, love and revenge. Reposted all chapters to fix formatting problems. Epilogue posted. Hearts of Ice is complete as of 6/20/2009.
1. Prologue

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Prologue

by Krista Perry

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Cologne was watching one of her favorite daytime soap operas when the letter came. She lay relaxed and content in an overstuffed chair, her thin, wrinkled hands clasped and resting on her stomach. She didn't even blink when Shampoo entered the room with a handful of mail; Hiragi was about find out that Michiru was carrying his baby, and she had been waiting for this moment for weeks.

"Great-grandmother...."

Cologne held up a silencing hand, eyes riveted to the television screen.

"But... Great-grandmother--"

"Hush, child. Whatever it is, it can wait until commercial break."

Shampoo looked at the stack of letters and restaurant catalogues in her hand, shrugged, and set them on the small side table before leaving the room.

As it was, Cologne's hopes of seeing Hiragi's reaction were dashed as Michiru's imminent revelation was interrupted by the arrival of Hiragi's cousin, who came to announce that Michiru's brother, Jinpachi, hadn't really died in the warehouse fire a month ago, and that he had just been discovered recovering from burns and trauma-induced amnesia in a nearby hospital.

Not what she was hoping for, but an interesting twist nonetheless. It was, of course, on that cliffhanger that the episode ended. Cologne sighed and turned the television off with a flick of the remote as she hopped out of the oversized chair with a spryness that belied her ancient appearance.

Her eyes fell on the stack of mail Shampoo had left. Before she could even wonder what her great-granddaughter thought was important enough in the daily post to interrupt her program, she saw the small red envelope lying on top.

Her face went ashen.

She reached for the envelope with a trembling hand, taking quick note of the Chinese postmark, and tore it open before she could think twice about it.

The letter was brief of necessity -- written, she knew from personal experience, with the author's own blood. Her eyes took in the kanji; the meticulously painted characters, once bright, gleaming red as the brush swept across the pale parchment, now rust brown.

_Honorable Sister._

_A full year has passed since you left us to claim your great-granddaughter's wayward husband. Rumor has it that life in Japan has made you grow soft and weak, and that your honor is corrupted by foreign influence; that, rather than acquiring what is yours by right and sacred tradition, you have instead bowed to the will of this outsider male._

_The Council's patience has reached an end. You and your great-granddaughter will fulfill your obligations of honor by whatever means necessary and return to us by mid-summer or suffer the penalties--_

The letter crumpled in Cologne's fist. Her eyes felt tight and unnaturally dry, and she could hear her heartbeat thudding in her ears. She stood, for long minutes, staring at nothing, her jaw clenched tight.

"Great-grandmother?"

It was a testament to her distraction that she hadn't even felt Shampoo come up behind her. She turned, her expression carefully schooled, and raised an eyebrow. "Yes, what is it, child?"

Shampoo frowned. "Everything... okay? You get letter from home, and...." She trailed off, biting her lower lip, obviously wanting an explanation for her strange behavior.

Cologne forced a smile. "This is just a letter from a friend, one of the tribe matriarchs. We grew up together. She brought back a lot of old memories. I guess I was a little lost in thought, remembering. It's nothing you need to worry about."

Shampoo smiled in relief. "Oh, so glad nothing bad happen."

Cologne nodded, tucking the letter into her voluminous sleeve. "Say, Shampoo, why don't you take Son-in-law some lunch today?"

With a grin and a wink, Shampoo turned on her heel. "Was already planning on it, Great-grandmother. I sure to convince Ranma to take me on date today."

_Of course_, Cologne thought. The scent of old blood filled her head. _No reason he would turn you down like he has the other half million times you've asked him out_.

_As if he even should have a choice in the matter...._

When Shampoo returned later that evening, having once again failed to convince Ranma to leave Akane and take her out on a date -- and all this in spite of her superior cooking skills -- she was surprised to discover the television set lying in several mangled pieces in the trash bin. When she went to her great-grandmother's room to enquire about the television's demise, she found Cologne sitting amidst stacks of dusty old books, and pouring over several ancient leather scrolls.

Cologne looked up as Shampoo entered the room, and her withered face cracked in a smile. "Shampoo," she said, "you're just in time."

Shampoo looked around the room, puzzled. "Great-grandmother, what all this? And what happen to television?"

"Nothing, just a little accident. Come, look at this," she said, gesturing to the scroll rolled out before her.

Leaning over the scroll, Shampoo's forehead creased as she tried to make out the faded, ancient writing. "What is it?" she asked again.

"I was going through some old Amazon texts, and found this legend that I think you might find interesting. Go ahead. Read it."

Raising a skeptical eyebrow, Shampoo settled herself on the floor next to Cologne, and squinted to make out the faint characters. Several minutes later, Shampoo looked up, eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Great-grandmother," she said. "You know what this means?" Without waiting for an answer, she bent her head over the scroll again, reading intently.

Cologne smiled.

"I suspect it means that we will be going home soon," she whispered.

~*~


	2. Blood Spell

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

This story is dedicated to my brother Kurt, without whom I would still be living in abysmal ignorance of Ranma 1/2, and anime and manga in general.

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Hearts of Ice

Chapter 1: Blood Spell

by Krista Perry

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Something was wrong.

Ranma could feel it; a twisting, nervous sensation in his gut, a premonition almost. It wasn't the same other-sense that he used as a martial artist, the sense he'd developed that forewarned him of a sneak-attack or an opponent's moves during battle. It was more of a....

Damn. He couldn't put his finger on it. It was... a vague sense of foreboding. A suspicion that something was seriously out of place. A feeling like, any moment now, the world would turn itself inside out.

He glanced at the sky as he ran, his feet not missing a beat as they instinctively found the narrow length of fence piping beneath him. Not a cloud in sight. It was a bright, dewy morning in Nerima. The heady scent of cherry blossoms and sizzling breakfasts filled the spring air.

Ranma frowned, perplexed. He was glad he wouldn't have to deal with rain today, but....

He looked down at his fiancée as she kept pace with him on the sidewalk below. His frown deepened. Akane wasn't even paying attention to him. Her short, dark hair fanned out behind her as she ran, her eyes focused ahead on the distant Furinkan High School clock tower that showed they had approximately three minutes before they were both officially late for class.

At least Akane wasn't mad at him. Which was a surprise, actually, since it was sort of his fault they were running late. Breakfast that morning had deteriorated into an all-out sparring match with Pop as they fought over Kasumi's cooking, and, after he executed a lightning-quick move that deprived Pop of the last of the shrimp tempura, he had ended up getting tossed into the pond -- which meant that he had to wait for Kasumi to heat a kettle so that he could change back to himself, since he had no intention of going to school that day as a girl. For all intents and purposes, Akane _should_ be mad at him, but for some reason she wasn't, so he was counting his blessings.

It was a beautiful, cloudless day, he was still on Akane's good side... so what the hell was bugging him? Hopping over a segment of fencing that looked as if it had been smashed repeatedly with an object that appeared to have the same shape as his face, he blinked. The strange feeling surged in his gut and he heard an almost audible _click_ in his head as the pieces fell into place.

He didn't realize he had stopped running until Akane yelled back at him. "Ranma, you dummy, what are you doing? Do you want to make us even more late than we are already? Don't just stand there, come on!"

Ranma looked up at her. "Yo, Akane, have you... I mean, do you know... uh..." He thought furiously, but knew there was no way to phrase his question without incurring his fiancée's wrath. She was already looking steamed as he continued to stand on the fence stuttering.

"What _is_ it, Ranma?" Akane asked, her brow furrowing. "I don't want to end up holding buckets all day, so let's move it."

Ranma sighed inwardly. And here he'd gone the whole morning without pissing her off. "Hey, look, it's no big deal, I was just gonna ask you if you'd seen Shampoo. She hasn't been around much lately."

Akane's fists clenched convulsively at her sides. "What?" she asked.

Ranma heard the barely subdued hurt and surprise in her voice, and knew he was treading on thin ice. "Hey, uh... chill, Akane. It's not like I _want_ to see Shampoo or anything. It's just that... Don't you think it's odd that she hasn't slammed my face into the fence with her bike recently? I mean, haven't you noticed that she's been kinda scarce?" He pointed to his facial imprints in the metal piping behind him.

Akane had good throwing aim, and even though he knew it was coming, Ranma was still somehow unable to dodge her book bag. It smacked him right in the face, toppling from him perch on the fence, and sending him head first into the drainage canal. The change rippled through him instantly as he plunged into the water, and a female Ranma spluttered to the surface a moment later, rubbing her nose.

"Hey, whaddja do _that_ for?!"

Akane glared at him as she picked up her bag from the sidewalk; her mouth in a pinched frown, her eyes glistening. "If you miss Shampoo that much, why don't you just go _find_ her?!" And without waiting to hear his reply, she turned and sprinted off to school again, leaving an angry, dripping female Ranma standing alone in the drainage ditch.

"Stupid girl," muttered Ranma as she grasped the chain link. She swung herself up and flipped in a mid-air arc to land on the top of the fence again. "Stupid uncute tomboy. Did I say I wanted to find Shampoo? I was just pointing out that she hasn't been around lately. Maybe she's gone back to China... Naw, my luck's never _that_ good..." Ranma ran along the fence and rubbed her jaw with one hand, feeling the rising bruise that was probably already starting to purple.

_It's just that I think Shampoo's up to something,_ he thought. _It's not like her to up and disappear like this, or leave without saying goodbye...._ The sick feeling in his stomach was still there. If anything, it intensified when he made the connection with Shampoo's uncharacteristic absence. _She's up to something, I'm sure of it._

A few blocks ahead of Ranma, Akane ran, blinking back tears. _That idiot!_ she thought, gritting her teeth. _Of course he would have to bring up Shampoo. It's been so nice not having her around hanging on Ranma all of the time, but I guess he just can't stand the thought of losing one of his _cute_ fiancées! And then he has to go rub it in! That womanizing _jerk!

A tiny part of her mind whispered to her that she could be jumping to conclusions; that she'd been feeling strange and edgy all morning... but she ignored it. And kept running.

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As a matter of fact, Shampoo _was_ in China.

She stood trembling at the entrance of a huge gaping black cave at the top of a jagged mountain, her body tensed in a ready stance, her hands clutching her bonbouri. Her body was covered with purpling bruises and scrapes. There was a bleeding gash on her right cheek just below her eye. Her mass of violet hair was a tangled, matted mess.

She hesitated at the edge of the cave. It was so dark inside that it seemed as though light could not penetrate the entrance. Shampoo reached into the bodice of her torn, soiled blouse and pulled out a small, ancient scroll that hung from a gold chain around her neck. Carefully, she unrolled it, her eyes scanning up and down rapidly as she it read one last time.

After returning the scroll to its place, she closed her eyes to steady herself. When her violet eyes opened again, they were filled with determination.

"*I have come, Ancient One,*" she called out in Mandarin Chinese. Her light soprano voice had an edge of steel, and it echoed into the heavy darkness of the cave. "*I have defeated your demon guardians. I demand that you come and face me!*"

Two gleaming blood-red eyes, each the size of a house, blinked open in the blackness. The dark scarlet glow from the eyes illuminated the cave, revealing a hint of scales and teeth. A low snarl caused the ground to tremble, and Shampoo was showered with rocks and dirt from the cave ceiling.

Shampoo paled and took a step back. Then her brow furrowed in determination, and she held her ground. She had come too far to turn back now. "*Face me, dragon!*" she called out. "*I require something of you.*"

The rumbling snarl turned into a deep, throaty laugh. "*Go away, girl-child, before I eat you.*"

"*I will not leave, and you will not eat me. I have passed your guardians. I have found your lair. Now you will give me what I require.*"

The huge eyes narrowed, and Shampoo gulped softly. _Aiya_, she thought. _Have I come all this way and done all this work only to be eaten?_

"*What is it you require?*" The movement of the dragon's mouth revealed its rows of huge teeth gleaming in the red of the eyelight, yet Shampoo sighed in relief. According to the scroll, the dragon's response meant that he would go along with the ritual. Whether this was because of a magical binding or dragon whim, she did not know.

"*I require a small amount of your blood, Ancient One.*"

"*You are willing to pay the price?*"

"*I have fought for the privilege of paying the price, Ancient One.*"

"*Very well. Extend your arm.*"

Shampoo extended her left arm into the almost tangible shadows of the cave. The ground shook as the dragon moved it's massive, coiled body towards her. She stifled a shriek as a single black claw, twice as tall as she was, came out of the gloom, it's needle-sharp tip poised over her arm. Before she could withdraw, the claw came down, the point lancing through her arm just below the elbow, and retracting just as quickly.

The pain was incredible, worse than she imagined. Blackness surged at the edges of her vision. She could feel her blood running down her arm, past her hand, and trickling off her fingers in a steady stream. Her heart pounded, growing louder in her ears. Looking down, she saw that her blood was falling to the earth in great splashes of scarlet, soaking into the soil at the mouth of the cave.

"*Enough,*" said the dragon. "*That will do.*" Shampoo looked at her arm and saw that the bleeding had stopped. She raised her trembling, uninjured hand to her mouth to hold back a wave of dizziness and nausea that threatened to send her to her knees.

"*You have paid the price. Now take your reward, sorceress, and go.*" A whirlwind appeared out of nowhere, sweeping around Shampoo. She never felt her feet leave the ground, but when the wind dispersed she found herself standing at the bottom of the mountain facing the valley. In her hand, she clutched a small crystal vial of black liquid.

Dragon blood.

She looked at it and smiled, the excitement in her eyes a contrast to her battle-weary, blood-drained body. "*Soon, Ranma,*" she whispered. "*Soon you will see... how much I... love you. And Akane will... be gone for good.*"

Shampoo collapsed to the ground in an exhausted, unconscious heap.

--------------------

Akane and Ranma stood sullenly in the school hall, each holding a pail of water, each studiously ignoring the other.

They sneezed simultaneously.

Ranma sniffed and rubbed his nose. "Gah. Somebody must be talking about us."

Akane snorted. "I can't imagine why."

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

She glared at him. "I was being sarcastic, you dope. It's probably the teachers talking about how we were late yet once again. We'll be lucky if Hinako-sensei doesn't show up with her five yen piece in a few minutes." Akane almost smiled, seeing Ranma grimace and roll his eyes at the prospect of facing the hyper-active Hinako-sensei and her plethora of ki-draining circular objects, but she covered it with a mask of seriousness when Ranma turned to her.

"You don't think she'd try _that_, do you? Just for being late? I mean, we're already holding these stupid buckets of water."

"Oh, I don't know," Akane responded, rocking back on her heels. "I've heard she's been cracking down on even the most minor offenses, like chewing gum in class, or talking out of turn. I'm sure showing up to school five minutes late, or ten minutes late in your case--"

"Hey, I had to find some hot water, no thanks to you--"

"-- will be more than enough to bring Hinako-sensei down on us both. I wonder what Dad will do when he sees me all drained of ki and finds out that it was all your fault."

Ranma paled, knowing from experience how Soun Tendo reacted to any threat to his beloved daughters. The Demon-head Ki attack was not something to be dismissed lightly.

_Ah, man, that's all I need_. Ranma stared at his feet glumly and twisted the pail in his hand making the water surge and swirl in the bucket. He immediately stopped, letting the water settle. His luck with water had never been good since the curse. Water was almost like a sentient thing around him, actively seeking him out to turn him female at the most inconvenient moments and make his life miserable. He certainly didn't need to have an "accident" with his pail in the middle of the school hall right now. And on top of everything else that had gone wrong today, he still couldn't shake the feeling that something really bad was going to happen. Soon. Something a heck of a lot worse than getting drained by Hinako-sensei or facing Tendo-san's demon head. Ranma shook his head, trying to clear it. _Man, why can't I shake this feeling? It's creeping me out!_

Akane watched Ranma from the corner of her eye, her brows creasing into a confused frown that didn't quite reach her mouth. _That's odd_, she thought. He wasn't responding to her jibes the way he normally did. She liked seeing the all-mighty too-macho Ranma get flustered and panicky, and normally any mention of her father's protectiveness was enough to send him into an indignant, stuttering rage. Instead, he was staring at the floor with a strange, almost sad look in his eyes.

Her confusion warmed into concern. Was he sick? No, Ranma never got sick, except for that one time Happosai gave him his cold, but that was just one time. And besides, aside from the look on his face, he appeared perfectly healthy. Then what was wrong? He seemed strangely subdued, and Akane was startled to realize that, aside from the incident on the fence, he hadn't flung any of his usual insults at her. Could it be that he didn't want to fight with her anymore? No, that definitely wasn't it. Otherwise, he wouldn't have brought up Shampoo, the jerk.

Something was obviously troubling him, though. Maybe if he talked about it, he might feel better and start acting like his old self. Akane didn't like seeing him like this. Not that his old self was any better, but at least she knew how to deal with him then.

She swallowed. On the other hand, if she showed how concerned she was for him, he might get some funny ideas about her _liking_ him, or something equally stupid. As if she could ever lo... like a stupid perverted jerk like him.

"Ranma?" She intentionally put an edge in her voice, not wanting to sound too concerned. "What's wrong with you?"

He didn't lift his eyes. "Nothin'." He had toyed momentarily with the idea of trying to explain what was bothering him, but then he heard the anger in Akane's voice, and knew that any explanation he tried to give would probably earn him a quick sex change and a new set of bruises, courtesy her bucket of water. Besides, it didn't even make sense to him, so there was no way she would understand. She didn't understand things even when the explanation should have been perfectly obvious. He thought of Ryoga/P-Chan, one of the better examples of Akane's weird selective blindness, and sighed. "At least nothing _you'd_ listen to," he finished.

Oops. Akane's battle aura flickered on the edges of his vision. Somehow he'd done it again, and he wasn't even sure what he'd said this time to make her angry, especially when he'd been trying so hard to avoid her temper. He turned quickly, jumping into the air with his pail as the water flew right where he'd been standing, sloshing to the floor as Ranma flipped and landed on dry tile. He turned to yell at Akane, but her pail was already there, slamming against the side of his head, upsetting his pail and drenching him as he crashed head first into the floor.

"Ranma, you _idiot_!"

Ranma recovered immediately and flipped up to her feet, just barely missing another pail attack. She jumped back and stood dripping, risking a glance at Akane only when she knew she was out of range.

"Jeeze, Akane, whaddja do _that_ for?" Ranma shouted, angry and baffled at the unprovoked attack. "I didn't do nothin', you psycho macho chick!"

Akane stood in a battle stance, holding her empty pail. Her teeth were clenched and her brow was furrowed in fury. Then, without warning, her battle-aura faded and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

Ranma's mouth opened, and she leaned away from Akane in panic. "What the... What's wrong?" Ranma's voice rose in pitch. "You're not gonna cry, are you? Jeeze, whaddi _do_?"

Akane threw her empty pail to the floor with a clang. "Ranma, you _jerk_, it figures that you're too stupid to know what an insensitive creep you are! And to think I was _worried_ about you!" With that, Akane turned and, for the second time that day, she fled, leaving a soaked female Ranma standing in the flooded school hallway staring after her, his mouth still hanging open in surprise.

_She was... worried? About me?_

Around the corner, Akane leaned against the wall, her chest heaving with silent sobs. She felt the tears brim and slide down her cheeks, and put her face in her hands. _Why did I _do_ that?_ she thought miserably. _It's not like he really insulted me or anything. He just said I wouldn't listen, and then I go and prove his point right there! What's wrong with me today?_

She wiped at her face and tried to get herself under control. _I've felt edgy all morning. Maybe I've just got a bad case of nerves._ She sighed, thinking regretfully of Ranma. _Well,_ she thought, trying unsuccessfully to ease her conscience, _he probably had it coming for _something_._ She headed for the restroom to clean herself up.

-------------------

Shampoo felt the touch of a rough, small hand on her forehead, and her eyes fluttered open to see Cologne standing over her. She moaned and looked around, recognizing the shelter her great-grandmother had built for their stay in China. Above her, dust motes danced in the orange light streaming from the setting sun through the window of the tiny thatched hut.

"*Well, Great-grandchild,*" the crone whispered softly. "*It appears you have succeeded. I must admit, I had my doubts that you would return from the mountain. You are one of very few who have managed to reach the Ancient One.*"

"Shampoo do anything for Ranma," Shampoo replied in her broken Japanese. She could speak Mandarin, or even fluent Japanese if she wanted to. After all, she'd lived in Japan for almost a whole year now.

However... she found that people, including her great-grandmother, tended to unconsciously underestimate her when she played dumb, and Shampoo had a policy of exploiting every advantage she could get. It was almost funny. Cologne now spoke Japanese more than Mandarin in an effort to help her become more fluent. Shampoo knew it was a constant, mild irritation to her great-grandmother that she never seemed to make any progress. But Cologne seemed more concerned about molding her into a great warrior than into a great intellect, and Shampoo was content to let her great-grandmother and the others believe she wasn't all that smart. It gave her an unexpected edge.

She smiled weakly as she struggled to a sitting position, then winced as the effects of her injuries made themselves known. She blinked wearily and tried to stand up, but was restrained by Cologne's hand.

"Not just yet, child. Drink this first. It will make you feel better." Cologne handed Shampoo a steaming cup, which she took and brought to her lips with unsteady hands. The concoction was bitter -- most of Great-grandmother's potions were -- but she didn't hesitate, and swallowed it down obediently. She smiled as she immediately felt new strength flooding through her limbs.

"Thank you, Great-grandmother." Her eyes began scanning the hut, searching for...

"Here it is, child," said Cologne, pressing the crystal vial into her hands. "I kept it safe for you while you recovered."

Shampoo looked at the vial. The crystal was cool against the palms of her hands. "You no take any while I sleep?" she asked. Dragon blood was possessed of a most powerful magic, but she needed all of it, every last drop, for what she had planned for Ranma.

Cologne's ancient wrinkled face soured into an angry scowl. "What do you take me for, child? I still question the wisdom of you dabbling with such dark power. Anything bought with a blood-price is not only dangerous, but often leads to grief."

Shampoo looked at the old woman, askance. "What you mean? This whole thing your idea in first place. You say this work for sure."

"I believe I mentioned in passing that dragon blood ensures the success of any spell, nothing more." Cologne said, cocking a critical eyebrow.

"Good!" Shampoo responded, swallowing the urge to argue. "Nothing _else_ work. We try everything, and still Ranma no leave violent pervert-girl, Akane."

Cologne glared at her great-granddaughter. "That's the point exactly, Shampoo. Just think. Nearly a year ago, you gave Akane the Kiss of Death. If you had followed through on that, instead of letting compassion soften your warrior's heart, we would not be here now, reduced in the end to meddling with dark magics to snare son-in-law."

Shampoo frowned. "Is not that simple," she said. And it wasn't. It was true that she had given Akane the Kiss of Death when she first arrived in Japan, since she stood in the way of her rightful claim to Ranma. But when it came down to the death-duel on the grounds of Furinkan High School, she... couldn't do it. She couldn't kill Akane. Instead, she had used the Xi Fa Xiang Gao Shiatsu technique to erase all memory of Ranma from Akane's mind. It didn't last long, though. Akane had recovered without even receiving the proper cure, her subconscious feelings for Ranma restoring her memory completely.

It was Shampoo's second failure. First, not being able to take Ranma as her husband as he was by law, and then letting Akane live. Dishonored twice over.

Yet... if she had a chance to do it over, she wouldn't do it differently. Shampoo had never killed anyone before. She knew she had it in her to do it, but deep inside her soul, in a place she didn't like to admit existed, she didn't want to. For an Amazon, these pangs of... mercy?... were an unforgivable weakness.

"No can kill Akane," she said, her voice heavy with the knowledge. "No can kill then, no can kill now. You know this, Great-grandmother. I kill Akane, Ranma get angry and no spell strong enough to bind Ranma to me. He stubborn man, he fight it to his death."

Cologne's scowl softened, and she chuckled mildly. "True enough. Son-in-law is rather... strong-willed, to say the least."

Shampoo smiled wickedly. "Is part what make him strong man," she said, her eyes gleaming. Then her smile faded into a worried frown. "This spell... it no make Ranma slave, yes? Shampoo want Ranma with free mind." Shampoo wanted Ranma to look at her the way... the way he looked at Akane all those times when she was in danger, or when he thought no one was watching him watch her. That kind of look didn't come from an enslaved mind, no matter how devout the slave might be. She had done many things to force Ranma to take her in his arms, whether by blackmail, bribery, hypnotic mushrooms or other strange means. But although those moments provided some satisfaction -- most of it from seeing Akane's jealousy -- she always felt the pain deep inside her that yearned for Ranma to love her of his own free will.

"The parameters of the spell are very clear," Cologne answered, looking at the tiny, ancient scroll that lay on a small makeshift table. "No mind control is involved, unless you desire it. The spell is designed to alter circumstance in favor of the caster according to the instructions given. You must think on this carefully before you begin, or the spell could have disastrous effects."

Shampoo nodded, pleased with Cologne's affirmation of her own understanding of the spell, and caressed the vial of dragon blood in her hands. "No worry, Great-grandmother. Shampoo know exactly what instruction to give."

Cologne nodded thoughtfully, but her expression was grave. "Then I suppose there is nothing to keep us from continuing. However..."

Shampoo blinked in surprise. Her great-grandmother's face was filled with something akin to... apprehension?

What on earth was this? Was her great-grandmother, the fearless Amazon matriarch, having second thoughts?

"However?" she prompted.

"Are you absolutely certain you want to do this, Great-granddaughter?" Cologne asked. The old woman's ancient gaze seemed to burn right into Shampoo's soul. "You have trifled with Son-in-law for a year now, trying to win his heart. Until this moment, you have not caused him, or those around him, any lasting harm. If you cast this blood spell, all of that will change. Permanent harm will be done, and there will be no going back -- for _either_ of us. Casting the blood spell will commit us irrevocably to our course. We both will be utterly bound by Amazon law and honor. There will be no mercy, no fun and games, and no harmless, friendly rivalries afterwards. The blood spell is the point of no return."

Shampoo met Cologne's gaze steadily. "You tell me this before. I know this."

"So, I ask you one final time. Are you _absolutely certain_ that you want to cast the blood spell?"

There wasn't even a moment's hesitation. "I certain, Great-grandmother."

Cologne sighed heavily, and in one brief moment, so fleeting that Shampoo wasn't sure if she had imagined it, the old Amazon seemed incredibly weary. But then she straightened and, with one smooth movement, used her staff to snag the scroll off the table by the gold chain. She dangled it in front of Shampoo's face.

"Shall we begin, then?"

--------------------

Ranma stood in front of the Nekohanten, feeling completely baffled. The ramen cafe was closed. Shampoo really was gone, and she had left without a word. There was no sign of the old ghoul either....

No, wait. He could see movement in the darkness behind the windows. Someone was in there. He pressed his face against the glass and shielded his eyes with his hands to block out the glare from the setting sun.

It was only Mousse. Ranma watched as the tall myopic Chinese boy walked through the swinging doors that led to the kitchen, only to emerge a moment later with a broom and dust pan and begin methodically sweeping the floor. Ranma squinted, trying to get a better look. There was something about Mousse, about the way he was sweeping the floor. Then he caught a glimpse of his face, and Ranma suddenly knew what was wrong with him.

Mousse was completely, totally depressed. His whole posture and attitude practically screamed dejection.

Yup. Shampoo was gone, all right. She and the old ghoul had taken off somewhere and left Mousse behind.

Ranma pounded on the window. "Hey, Mousse!" Mousse looked up, annoyed at being interrupted in the middle of his melancholy. Ranma kept pounding. "Hey, let me in, I wanna ask you something."

Mousse's annoyance turned to anger. "Ranma? Is that you? How dare you come here looking for my darling Shampoo!" He stormed towards the door, and, although Ranma couldn't see it, he knew that the bladed arsenal Mousse carried in the voluminous sleeves of his Chinese robe was getting primed for launch.

He groaned. "Aw man, I'm _not_ looking for Shampoo! I just wanted to ask you where...." Ranma trailed off, realizing that was _exactly_ what he wanted to ask Mousse. But not for the reasons that he assumed. "Aw, man..." he muttered, as Mousse threw open the door and glared at him through lenses that put Coke bottles to shame.

"Saotome, prepare to die!"

Ranma sighed. _Why is nothing ever easy? Oh well. I gotta remember to keep him conscious, or he can't answer my questions._

The battle took longer than usual, but only because Ranma's heart really wasn't in it. He dodged mostly, allowing Mousse to wear himself out and inflict most of the usual property damage with his missing blows, which only served to infuriate him even more.

After twenty minutes of fighting, or rather of Mousse fighting and Ranma dodging, the Chinese boy stood panting. He glared at Ranma, who, he noticed to his chagrin and fury, was barely winded. "You dishonorable cur! How dare you take this battle so lightly?" He threw up his sleeves.

"Come on, Mousse," Ranma said, groaning in exasperation and ducking a bladed chain that flew at his head. "I just wanna know where Sha... where the old ghoul went."

Ranma thought he'd covered for himself rather well, but Mousse was blind, not deaf, and he caught the verbal slip. "Arrghhhh! It's not enough that you have three other fiancées, you must come searching for my one true love as well?!" he shouted. "You'll pay for your insolence, you enemy of women!" A barrage of chains, knives, wires, firecrackers, kitchen utensils, and other miscellaneous items flew from the dimensionally deceiving confines of Mousse's sleeves.

Ranma slipped past them with practiced ease. "Hey, I'm not engaged to no one, duck-boy!" he denied, also with practiced ease. "None of this mess was my idea!" He wove through the attack and landed a fierce punch to the jaw, sending Mousse flying into the front of the Nekohanten, cracking plaster and concrete. Mousse slumped to the ground, dazed, his arsenal falling limp from his sleeves, his glasses askew on his face. Ranma stood at a ready stance, waiting for the Chinese boy to get up and resume the battle.

Instead, to his amazement, Mousse straightened his glasses and gave him a piercing look. "What do you mean, you're not engaged to.... Does this mean you're really not here to claim Shampoo?"

Ranma staggered as if he'd been hit, he was so flabbergasted. None of his rivals had ever listened to his protests of innocence before. "Of course not!" he yelled, then softened his tone, hoping not to stir Mousse's anger again. "I just had this weird feeling all day that something bad was gonna happen, that's all, and I think Shampoo might have something to do with it."

Mousse stood up and dusted himself off. His aggressive stance had evaporated, but he still eyed Ranma with open suspicion. "What makes you say that?"

Ranma shrugged. "I dunno, just a feeling."

"Well that's strange, because I've had the same feeling too."

Ranma's jaw sagged. "Really?" As that piece of information registered, he slowly closed his mouth and smiled. "Boy, that's a relief! I thought I must be going nuts or something."

Mousse scowled. "You _are_ nuts, Saotome," he said. "But not about this. Know now that the only reason you're still standing--" Ranma smirked openly, but Mousse ignored him. "--is because I think we have a common concern. When Shampoo and Cologne left, they absolutely refused to let me go with them."

"Hmph. That's never stopped you before. Why didn't you just follow them?"

"That's none of your concern," Mousse snapped. He certainly wasn't going to tell Ranma the details of how he ecstatically and innocently ate the drugged ramen Shampoo had prepared just for him. He was out cold for a whole day. "The point is, I have no idea where they went, but they were up to something." He flushed with a combination of embarrassment and anger. "Actually, when you pounded on the window, I thought Shampoo'd finally managed to get that passion spice to work on you."

It was Ranma's turn to scowl. "No way, man. After that whole hypnotic mushroom mess, I would rather eat Akane's cooking... uh, well... er, maybe not, but I would rather eat anything else than trust something Shampoo tried to feed me." He clapped a hand on Mousse's shoulder. "Believe me, Mousse, if I had my way, Shampoo would be all yours."

Mousse pushed Ranma's hand from his shoulder, and turned away so that his rival wouldn't see the look on his face. He suppressed the urge to attack Saotome with everything he had, knowing that Ranma would just dodge and probably knock him into the wall again. Deep down, he knew that Ranma wasn't trying to be cruel. How could Ranma possibly know how much it hurt to be spurned by the woman he loved, while she pined after another man, a man who never even gave her a second thought? Ranma didn't even know the _meaning_ of the word love. It was so infuriating, the way the girls flocked around him, when he hadn't done a thing to deserve it. He simply _existed_. Even Akane, who vehemently denied any feelings for her fiancé‚ was obviously in love with him.

He, on the other hand, loved Shampoo with every fiber of his being. And yet she continually spurned him, throwing herself at a reluctant Ranma every chance she got because of some stupid Amazon marriage law.

On top of that, now there was the unsettled feeling he shared with Ranma, and the fear that Shampoo was somehow connected with it all.

"So, uh, what are we gonna do about it?" asked Ranma, breaking the uncomfortable silence. He was more bothered than he cared to admit, knowing that Shampoo and Cologne snuck off somewhere without letting anyone know what they were up to.

As if on cue, the postman walked by. "Hello, Mousse," he said, handing the boy a stack of mail. "How's business?"

"Oh, well, we're closed at the moment. Shampoo and Cologne are... out of town, and I can't run the place by myself."

"Ah." The postman smiled as he turned to go. "That explains the postcard then. See you later."

"Postcard?" exclaimed Mousse as the postman walked off. They looked at the stack of mail. Mousse began flipping through it, ignoring the bills and catalogues for food and restaurant supplies. "Aha!" He pulled out a postcard that had a picture of a Chinese mountain landscape.

Ranma leaned over his shoulder, and frowned when he saw that it was written in Chinese. "What does it say?"

"It's addressed to me!" Mousse was so excited, he was nearly jumping up and down. "And it's from my darling Shampoo! They're in China!"

"China? What are they doing there? What does it say?"

"'Dear Mousse,'" he translated, "'Sorry about the sleeping powder in the ramen--'"

"Sleeping powder, eh?" Ranma interrupted, grinning.

"Shut up, Saotome," growled Mousse, before continuing.

"'Great-grandmother and I are on a training mission in China, where she is teaching me some special Amazon techniques as part of my training to become tribe matriarch. These techniques are for women only, so we couldn't have you following us. We will be back on Tuesday, so have the restaurant ready to open by then.'" Mousse stopped reading.

"That's it?" asked Ranma.

"Yes, of course," said Mousse, looking at the bottom of the card where Shampoo wrote 'Give my love to Ranma.' He hoped the sound of his heart shattering wasn't loud enough for Saotome to hear.

Ranma looked puzzled. "Well, if they're just on a training mission, I guess we're worrying about nothing, eh? I mean, how much trouble can they cause us in China?"

Mousse sighed. "Not much. It's what they bring back from China that we should worry about."

"Oh." Ranma grimaced. Most of the strange ingredients Cologne used in her mystical concoctions came from China. "Well, they're not going to be back for another four days, so I guess we don't have to worry about it until then."

Mousse nodded numbly. "I guess. Look, Ranma, I've got to get back to work. I have to get the restaurant ready to open by next Tuesday." With that, he walked back into the Nekohanten and closed the door behind him, leaving Ranma on the outside staring at the door.

Shrugging, Ranma turned and headed home, trying to ignore the small knot of uneasiness in his chest that only continued to grow.

--------------------

Shampoo stood in the center of the hut, the scroll in one hand, the vial of dragon blood in the other.

Cologne watched in silence from a dark corner as Shampoo unstopped the vial and began to pour the black fluid on the ground, forming a perfect circle around her. If the spell was to work, it had to be followed to exactitude. Shampoo had paid the blood-price. She was the only one who could use the Ancient One's gift. Were it not so, Cologne might have been tempted to keep a portion of the dragon blood for herself because of the incredible magic it possessed, guaranteeing the success of any spell.

The dragon blood trickled in an even stream from the vial to the ground, resting lightly on the surface, gleaming blackly in the candlelight, forming an exact circle around Shampoo. As the last few drops fell from the mouth of the vial, completing the circle, the blood flared to life, surrounding the girl in a cone of magical dark red aura.

Shampoo winced in fear, and hesitated. _No!_ thought Cologne, not daring to speak aloud. _Concentrate, girl! Read the scroll!_

Shampoo steadied herself and looked at the scroll. In a strong voice, she began chanting in an ancient Chinese dialect.

Cologne wilted with relief.

As the words rolled off her tongue, Shampoo fixed firmly in her mind her desires for the spell. The time was fast approaching, the aura building in strength, swirling around her with increasing fury. The roar was deafening. She could see Great-grandmother through the raging dark aura, looking at her with wide eyes.

Now! Shampoo threw her head back and called out her desire, the roaring noise from the ferocious magic that surrounded her drowning out the sound of her voice.

The pillar of red aura lit with a blinding flash, shot through the roof of the tiny hut leaving a clean, smoldering hole, and was gone into the night sky.

Shampoo blinked in the sudden darkness. She realized she was shaking. "I... I do it?" she asked.

Cologne looked at her in amazement. She nodded.

Shampoo smiled. "Ranma..." she whispered. And collapsed to the floor in a boneless heap.

--------------------

End of Chapter One


	3. The Kami Plane

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 2: The Kami Plane

by Krista Perry

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Akane knelt at the dinner table, holding a contented P-Chan in her lap, gently stroking the fine black hairs on his head as she watched the last traces of sunset fade from the dark western sky. The first evening stars were shining faintly. She smiled as Kasumi brought in the meal and began serving dinner. Soun and Genma were already seated, their mouths open and watering. Nabiki wandered in a moment later, and casually raised an eyebrow at her younger sister.

"Honestly, Akane," she said, teasing, "I can't believe how much you spoil that pig of yours. Are you going to be feeding him from the table again?"

Akane raised an eyebrow. "Now don't _you_ start picking on P-Chan," she said. "It's bad enough that Ranma always seems to be trying to beat him up or something. Besides, he likes people-food. Don't you, P-Chan?"

P-Chan gazed at Akane in adoration.

"Speaking of Ranma," said Kasumi, setting the last dish on the table and kneeling in her regular spot, "has anyone seen him this evening? It's not like him to miss dinner."

Genma eyed Ranma's plate greedily. "Hmm. It's too bad he's not here. I guess I'll have to eat his dinner. Can't let all that food go to waste, you know."

Kasumi gave Genma a disapproving look that consisted of a slight frown, which would have cowed him away from Ranma's plate had he been watching. As it was, he was so absorbed in stuffing Ranma's food in his mouth that he missed it completely.

Akane didn't miss the look. "Well, I say he deserves it," she said. "Serves him right for being late." P-Chan sighed happily and nuzzled Akane's hand affectionately with his snout, making her smile. "See? Even P-Chan agrees with me."

"Aw, what would that stupid pig know?" said Ranma as he walked into the dining area, glaring at P-Chan, who returned the nastiness of his gaze with interest.

"Where have you been?" asked Akane angrily. "Do you know how late it is?"

"Why?" chided Nabiki. "Were you worried about him?"

Akane flushed pink. "Worried?! About that stupid jerk? No way!"

"Oh yeah?" said Ranma defensively. Why was it that her insults always seemed to sting so much? It never bothered him coming from anybody else. "Well, it's none of your business where I went anyway, you uncute tomboy. And anyway, I'm not _that_ late. I'm still in time for dinner."

"That's debatable," said Nabiki with a slight smile.

Ranma finally noticed that Genma was cleaning his plate off with remarkable speed. Shouting in anger, he leapt over the table and elbowed his father's head into the floor in one fluid motion. "Get away from my food, Pop."

Scowling, Genma sat up, grabbed his son by the front of his Chinese shirt, and tossed him out the patio door. "Show some respect for your father," he shouted, as Ranma landed with uncanny accuracy in the middle of the pond.

Kasumi sighed, excused herself from the table, and went into the kitchen to heat up a kettle of water.

"So," said Nabiki, turning away from the familiar scene that was unfolding outside to address her sister, "what did you two fight about today?"

Ranma leapt out of the pond, red hair dripping, her wet, baggy clothes plastered to her womanly figure, and growled. "All right, Pop! You asked for it!" She charged.

Akane scowled and looked at her food, not meeting Nabiki's gaze. "Oh, the usual. The jerk said he missed having Shampoo glomp on him since she hasn't been around all week."

"Ah." _Translation:_ thought Nabiki. _Ranma opened his big mouth and wondered out loud why Shampoo hadn't attacked him recently. Akane misunderstood, as usual, and pounded him to a pulp._

Genma paused in stuffing his face to meet Ranma's attack, but was too slow. His female son grabbed him by the back of his gi and sent his father flying to his furry fate.

Nabiki heard the splash. "Great," she said, groaning around a mouthful of food. "Nothing like the smell of wet panda fur while you're trying to eat."

Akane snorted. "I thought you'd be used to it by now."

Nabiki looked out the patio door where a voluptuous red-head and a panda with a pair of glasses dangling from its ear were grappling in a mid-air battle over the lawn, and sighed. "Some things you _never_ get used to, sis."

The battle ended abruptly when the panda left an opening, allowing Ranma to land a powerful kick to his father's face. The kick sent him on an unconscious flight into the wall that surrounded the house.

Ranma landed lightly on her feet and made a show of dusting off her hands. "Stupid old man," he muttered. "What is he thinking, stealing my food?"

Kasumi came out of the kitchen and noticed that the battle was over. "Akane," she asked, smiling. "Would you take this out to Ranma and Uncle Saotome, please?"

Akane stiffened, ready to protest, but something in Kasumi's smile prevented her, and she slumped. "Okay, Kasumi," she said, putting down P-Chan and standing to take the kettle. She went outside, P-Chan trotting after her.

Ranma stood dripping on the grass, looking at Akane and the kettle with a strange look on her face; a combination of expectation and apprehension. Akane sighed. At least he was waiting to change back into a guy before taking off his shirt to wring it out. She walked over and upended half the contents of the kettle over his head, then turned to walk over to the unconscious panda.

"Um... Akane?" Ranma's voice was hesitant. Akane stopped, surprised, and turned to look at him. He was looking at his feet and twisting his fingers nervously.

"What is it, Ranma?" She tried to sound impatient, but for some reason, it didn't come out that way.

He didn't raise his eyes. "Uh, well... I just wanted to say that, you know... I'm sorry about earlier."

Akane froze, not quite believing what she had heard. P-Chan grunted angrily at her feet. "What?" she asked.

He looked up and put his hand behind his head. He couldn't seem to meet her eyes. "You know... What I said about Shampoo... Well, it didn't come out the way I meant. I'm... sorry if I made you angry."

Akane blinked, disbelieving. He actually sounded sincere. Either that or.... "Do you have a fever, Ranma?"

Ranma's arms dropped to his sides and he stared at her. "Hey!" he said indignantly. "I'm _trying_ to apologize here! This ain't easy, you know!"

Akane flushed and lowered her gaze, a dozen conflicting emotions flooding her. This couldn't be happening! She didn't _want_ Ranma to apologize. She wanted him to be his usual jerky self. She wanted to be angry at him because... because being angry at him was easier than... easier than....

"Hey Akane, you okay?" She looked up to see concern on Ranma's face, which melted into self-recrimination. "Jeeze, I can't even apologize right," he said with disgust. "Well fine. I'm sorry I even bothered." His shoulders slumped, and he turned to walk into the house.

"Ranma, wait," said Akane. Her throat thickened as he looked over his shoulder at her, and she swallowed. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't... shouldn't have gotten angry. And I shouldn't have thrown that water on you at school. I don't know why I did that. I guess I've kind of been on edge today."

Ranma turned to face her, his expression shifting to an amazed half-smile, the kind of smile that reached his blue eyes; that accented how handsome he was, and made all the girls flock after him like love-sick sheep.... The thought made Akane angry, but she pushed it down, feeling a little affected by the smile herself. She could feel herself blushing.

Ranma saw her flush, and felt the heat rise to his own cheeks as it suddenly struck him how cute she looked. The smart-alec remark he was about to say -- something along the lines of how it wasn't surprising she lost her temper, being a macho tomboy and all -- died on his lips.

"Uh, h-hey, it's okay," he said, stuttering. "I mean, I kinda wondered about the stuff in the hallway, 'cause usually it takes a lot more to set you off...." He trailed off as Akane's gaze hardened, and his hands flew up in a placating gesture. "That's not what I meant!" he said quickly. "I meant that, uh, I understood, 'cause I've been feeling kind of weird myself today. So it's okay." He smiled sheepishly, his hands still in the air hoping to ward off Akane's anger.

But her expression had already softened from anger to curiosity. "Hmm, that's odd," she said softly, thinking of her own edgy feelings. "I wonder..." Her eyes widened as she suddenly looked past him.

"Wonder what?" asked Ranma.

"What in the world is that?" she asked, pointing behind him.

Ranma turned. There was a small dark red glow rising out of the western sky where the sun had disappeared a few minutes earlier. "What the hell?" The weird feeling that had been plaguing him all day suddenly peaked, and Ranma felt his heart pound. Without thinking, he reached and grabbed Akane's arm, almost causing her to drop the kettle.

"Hey, what are you doing?" she protested, but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were focused on the strange glow. He began pulling her toward the house. "Hey!" she protested again, getting angry as she tried to pull out of his grip.

"Come on, Akane," he said. There was a worried undercurrent to his voice that made Akane pause. "I think we should go in the house."

"Why?" she asked, now feeling worried herself. "What do you think it is?"

"I don't know, but it's headed this way."

"What?!" She looked at the glow again. Sure enough, it was rising in the sky, streaking directly toward them like a locked-on missile -- a missile swirling with dark, unnatural energy. The unnerving sight attracted the attention of the rest of the Tendo family. Kasumi, Nabiki and Soun stared at it from the patio doors.

"It might not be anything to worry about," Soun said, trying to sound cheerful and failing. "We don't know what it is. It could be a natural phenomenon."

Nabiki snorted. "Right. A natural phenomenon that's coming straight for us. Considering everything else that's happened to this family, I _don't_ think that's a possibility."

Akane's heart rose in her throat in apprehension. "It's not really coming for _us,_ is it?" she asked, staring at the approaching red glow fearfully. "Ranma, what is it?"

"I don't know," he said again, growling in frustration as he pulled her into the house, "but it don't look friendly, so come on!"

P-Chan squealed anxiously at Akane's feet, and she bent down and scooped him up in her free arm. "Ranma," she said, remembering, "your father!"

Ranma looked over to the unconscious panda. "Damn." He let go of Akane's arm, took the kettle from her, and pushed her towards the house. "Get inside, Akane," he said, then ran to his father's prone form and dumped the rest of the hot water on him. He was still out cold, so Ranma bent and slung him over his shoulder, and ran back to the house.

"Here, take him," he said, shoving his father at a white-faced Soun, then turned to run back outside.

"Ranma!" yelled Akane, "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like, stupid?" he called back, his battle aura blazing, lighting up the yard as he formed a bright ball of ki energy in his hands. "I'm gonna stop that thing!"

Akane bristled instinctively. "Who are you calling stupid, you--" But Ranma wasn't listening.

The swirling missile of malevolent energy was now alarmingly close, growing ever larger in the sky as it neared. Ranma spread his hands in front of him and pointed his palms in the direction of the strange glowing object. "_Mouko Takabishya_!" A bright blaze of ki- power exploded from Ranma's hands and was sent hurling through the atmosphere towards the red glow. It impacted with a thunderous roar--

-- and dissipated harmlessly.

"What the..!" Ranma stared in disbelief.

"It didn't even slow it down," he heard Nabiki mutter somewhere behind him.

Ranma gritted his teeth in determination. "All right," he shouted. "This time for sure!" There was no way he was going to let that thing reach Akane... or any of the others, for that matter. He reached deep inside himself and pulled all the confidence and ki power he could muster from the depths of his soul. This _had_ to work; this blast was going to leave him totally drained. He could feel the surface of his skin start to sizzle with the power build up. Inside the house, the Tendos shielded their eyes from the intense brightness of Ranma's aura.

"MOUKO TAKABISHYA!" All the light and energy surrounding Ranma left him in a great roaring burst, and he gasped at the hollow, dark sensation that was left in its wake. _Whoa! Maybe I overdid it,_ he thought as he swayed weakly and collapsed to his knees. _But this has _got_ to work!_

The missile-shaped mass of dark aura flattened as Ranma's ki slammed into it with tremendous force. There was a moment of complete silence, then the mass shattered into hundreds of red glowing pieces flying all different directions. "YES!" shouted Ranma. Or at least he wanted to shout, but all he managed was a tired, hoarse whisper.

A moment later, his exultation turned to horror as all the glowing pieces coalesced together into the swirling missile shape once again, and resumed it's collision trajectory. "No," he moaned. "No, dammit, stop!"

He felt strong hands reach under each of his arms and haul him to his feet. Genma, who had regained consciousness in time to see his son release his final ki blast, picked him up and carried him into the house in spite of his feeble protests.

Once inside, he stood unsteadily on his own feet and joined the rest of the Tendo family as they stared in silence at the swiftly approaching streak of blood-red energy. It was almost upon them. There was nowhere they could run fast enough to escape, and they knew it. It descended in a steep arc towards their house.

Akane stood beside Ranma, her eyes wide with fear. "Somehow," she said in a small voice, "I get the feeling that just being on the other side of this wall isn't going to help us very much."

Kasumi put a hand to her mouth. "Oh my," she said weakly.

"I think you did something to it, though," Nabiki said, looking at Ranma, who was shaking from exhaustion. "It seems... weaker somehow. It's not as big as it was."

Akane's hands twitched nervously at her sides, when suddenly she felt the tips of Ranma's fingers touch hers. She almost jerked away, but instead, she froze as she felt his hand tentatively envelop hers in a comforting grip. She almost stopped breathing. _Ranma..?_ Then she gulped. _His hand is so big_! she thought, giving it a grateful squeeze and wondering how she could think of such a thing when their doom was rocketing towards them.

_Her hand is so tiny_! he thought, a drop of sweat forming on his cheek as he wondered how he could think of such a thing when their doom was rocketing towards them. He was surprised to find that the hollowness inside him left by his ki blast filled up a little when he took her hand, steadying him and giving him strength. _Wow, I never knew she could do that_, he thought, looking down at her, his eyes wide.

She must have felt it too, because she turned her head and met his gaze, her brown eyes strangely calm. "Ranma..." she whispered...

... and then the violent storm of magic burst through the roof of the house.

The blood-spell paused, almost like a sentient being in contemplation for a couple of moments. It shifted in shape, stretching and widening like an amoeba. Then, without warning, it moved to completely engulf Ranma and Akane.

To Akane's surprise, it wasn't painful. Quite the opposite, really, for she suddenly felt numb all over. Ranma, on the other hand, was writhing as if in pain, and she could see some of the red glow seeping into his skin. "Ranma!" she screamed, and was surprised when no sound came out of her mouth. The numbness was creeping deeper into her body. She looked down at her hand, still clutched in Ranma's, and saw that it was becoming transparent. She could hear her father calling her name through the roar of the magic cyclone.

Ranma thought he was going to die. The pain was unbearable, as if every cell in his body was being invaded by a malevolent virus. Tears of agony streamed from his eyes, but he fought against the blackness creeping at the edges of his vision with all his will, holding tight to Akane's hand... Her hand! He couldn't feel it any more. He looked up and saw Akane, fading like a ghost at dawn, her face a white mask of terror, her hands reaching out for him, her mouth silently screaming his name.

"Akane!" Desperately, he reached out to her, but his hands passed right through her, and then she was gone.

The blood-spell disappeared silently.

Ranma collapsed to his knees, shaking, his hands still reaching out. "Akane...." He felt the oblivion of unconsciousness crashing over him like a wave, and he struggled against it. She was gone. He hadn't been able to save her, and she was gone.

Nabiki stood, her eyes wide in shock as Ranma slumped in a crumpled heap to the floor. She felt surprised to be alive, especially since she had expected the thing to incinerate them or something. Instead, it had done something really weird to Ranma and had stolen Akane. She was pretty sure this was all Ranma's fault. Stuff like this never happened before he and his dad showed up.

She looked over at her father and older sister. Soun was sobbing for Akane, and Kasumi was staring at Ranma, her face pale and drawn. Genma was also looking at his son, appearing at a loss at what to do.

Nabiki looked at Ranma, hesitant to approach him. She had seen how the red aura had seeped into his body. He might be possessed or hypnotized or something. She waited for him to jump up with glowing evil eyes and attack them, but moments passed, and Ranma didn't move.

She walked towards him slowly, then knelt down next to his prone form. Taking him by the shoulder, she gently turned him over onto his back. Hmm. It didn't look like he would be waking up any time soon. His skin was an unhealthy gray color, and, taking his limp hand in her own, she saw that his fingernails were tinged blue. Matching the fingernails on her own shaking hands.

_Oh hell, I'm in shock_, Nabiki realized.

She turned to Kasumi. The mother figure, the one who always knew how to handle any crisis, no matter how bizarre. She almost smiled as she saw her older sister gain physical and mental control of herself so that she could take control of the situation. "We need some medical attention here, sis," she told her in a surprisingly steady voice.

Kasumi nodded. "I'll call Doctor Tofu," she replied, and walked over to the phone.

--------------------

White. A vast expanse of white. It was the first thing she was aware of after the feeling of nothingness that encompassed her. _Am I dead?_ she thought. Then sensation slowly returned to her body, and with it came a fierce, biting cold.

Akane shivered convulsively and looked down at herself. She was solid. No longer transparent, no longer numb. She was flesh and blood, wearing her usual school uniform dress... and standing up to her knees in heavy, wet snow. Snow that was getting deeper as the blizzard she was standing in continued to send stinging sheets of icy flakes earthward. Already, she could feel the snow and ice caking to her hair and clothes. She turned and looked around in amazement, but couldn't see more than a few feet in any direction because of the storm.

"Where am I?" she yelled, more to make sure that she actually could than to get an answer. She remembered trying to call Ranma's name and not being able to utter a sound as he faded from her sight... or rather as she faded from his. She knew she had been transported someplace... but where? Siberia? The North Pole?

"Well," she said out loud. Her voice provided strange comfort, even though the sound of it was swallowed by the wind. "If I'm not d-dead now, I s-soon w-will be if I d-don't get out of t-this s-storm." Her teeth chattered together uncontrollably. Not knowing what else to do, she tucked her hands under her arms in a vain attempt to keep them warm, and started trudging straight ahead, hoping that whatever had deposited her here had at least pointed her in the right direction to get help. She snorted to herself. "Not l-likely," she muttered. But she wasn't about to give up. Not without a fight.

After stumbling through deep drifts of snow for what seemed like an eternity, Akane finally admitted to herself that she was in big trouble. A different kind of terrifying numbness had crept back into her skin, and her face felt like a frozen slab. She felt that if she stubbed her foot against a rock that it would probably break and fall off like a piece of shattering ice. A story from her American Literature class came unbidden to her mind. The story was called "To Build A Fire," by Jack London. She couldn't remember the details, but it was about some foolish guy who went hiking in the Yukon without sufficient preparation and froze to death before he could gather enough materials to build a fire. It had creeped her out, the way death had come so subtly -- and so quickly -- shutting down his body until he couldn't even hold the match in his fingers to strike the flame. He had died with the match in his hand.

_Oh, well _that's_ a great thing to think about at a time like this_, she thought wryly, forcing her legs through the snow one at a time. She had stopped feeling them a while ago, and she strongly suspected that she was suffering from hypothermia and frostbite. She ached with exhaustion, and numbing despair started to seep into her mind, but she shook it off forcibly. _No way! I'm _not_ giving up! I'm not, I'm NOT I'M NOT I'M--_ Her body had different ideas. She fell face first into the snow.

Her first thought was how amazingly warm it seemed. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if she lay there for a while. At least until she warmed up a little more. Then she could go on a bit further.

"Well, I'm almost impressed! She made it further than any of the others. What do you think, is she worth keeping?"

"I would think so. She's a strong one, for a mortal, not to mention quite attractive. She'll make a fine servant for the mistress.

Akane heard voices right above her. _I'm hallucinating_, she thought giddily. Then she felt her frozen body lifted gently out of the snow. _Oh, I've been rescued. Even better_, she thought, just before she was smothered by a warm wave of sleep.

She awoke, not having any idea of how much time had passed, and found herself looking at a ceiling that appeared to be made out of crystal. Light danced through and across its surface, refracting into rainbow colors that shimmered on dazzling white walls. She blinked. "What... where..?"

"Ah, you're awake," said a stern voice. "Good, good." Akane turned her head and was startled to find herself staring into the face of a strange little man who was standing over her, scowling. He looked as if he had been carved from ice. His face was all angles, and his skin and hair were a bluish white color. His eyes were the color of winter thunderheads.

"Who are you?" she demanded, getting to her feet abruptly. She found herself standing on a soft white futon in the middle of a small, sparsely decorated room. The last thing she remembered, she had been freezing to death.... She looked down at herself. She was still wearing her school uniform, and she appeared to be in perfect condition. "What is going on here? Where am I?"

"My name is Kazuo," answered the man loftily. "You have been transported to the realm of our mistress, and I am here to train you in your duties as a servant of her household."

"Huh?" Akane blinked, and felt herself getting angry. "What are you _talking_ about? I'm not anybody's servant. And where, exactly, is _here_?"

Kazuo sneered. "Arrogant mortal, you cannot refuse. You are trapped in the Kami Plane, and as such you will serve the mistress for eternity."

Akane stared. _Arrogant _mortal_?! _Kami_ Plane? Oh no, what mess have I landed in _this_ time?_ She looked at the strange ice-man who, although shorter, was doing an amazing job of looking down his nose at her. He didn't look like the type who would readily yield the information she needed to find her way out of this place. "Who is this 'mistress' you keep talking about?" she asked.

"Our mistress is Yuki-onna."

A tight feeling of apprehension began building in her chest. _But-- but that's not _possible_!_ "The Snow Woman?" she asked. "But she's just a fairy tale... isn't she?" Then she looked closely at the little ice-man who called himself Kazuo, and swallowed hard. And if she was in the Kami Plane.... She had heard tales of Yuki-onna when she was a child, of how she was a malevolent spirit who delighted in catching men unawares and freezing them to death. She suppressed a shudder. She was supposed to spend the rest of eternity as a servant to an evil spirit?

"And what if I don't want to be a servant for Yuki-onna?" she said defensively.

The man raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't have a choice."

Akane returned the look stonily. "Oh yeah?" The bluish fire of Akane's battle aura began to flicker around her body. "We'll see about that!" She had to get out of here, she had to find a way to get back home.

The little man's eyes went wide as Akane flared and crouched into a battle stance. "Ahh, now hold on, there's no need for that," he said, his haughty demeanor slipping into nervousness as he dropped into a defensive posture.

"Are you going to show me how to get out of here and get back home?"

"Well, no..."

"Then fight me, or get out of my way." Akane shifted in her stance and prepared to attack.

"Kazuo doesn't mean that he _won't_ show you how to leave," said a woman's voice. "He's saying that he _can't_." Swiftly, and not letting down her guard, Akane looked up and past Kazuo to see a tall woman standing in the doorway.

The woman's face was inhumanly white, yet beautiful; her figure slender and gracefully feminine in flowing frost blue robes that matched her eyes exactly. Long, gleaming white hair that seemed to shimmer with all the colors of the spectrum swept back from her face and fell in waves to her ankles.

Kazuo relaxed out of his defensive posture and bowed deeply. "Mistress, allow me to introduce Tendo Akane. Tendo Akane, Mistress Yuki-onna."

Akane was speechless. Still, she didn't let down her guard, even when the Snow Woman smiled.

"Welcome to my household, Tendo Akane. I fear that Kazuo has failed to make my intentions clear. For the moment, you are a guest, not a prisoner."

Akane didn't miss the words 'for the moment.' She suddenly found her voice. "If I'm not a prisoner," she asked boldly, "then why won't you let me go home?"

"It is not I who binds you here," answered the Snow Woman gently, "but the spell which brought you to this realm."

"Spell?" _So _that's_ what it was_. Akane felt her heart sink. "Isn't there any way to break it? So I can go home?"

Yuki-onna closed her eyes and inclined her head slightly. "I can feel the taint of dragon blood about you," she said after a moment, "and such powerful magic is not easily removed."

"Not easily...." Akane felt a spark of hope kindle within her chest. "But not impossible?"

Yuki-onna nodded slightly. "I would discuss this with you. Will you join me for tea?"

Akane felt herself at a loss. This certainly wasn't the evil, heartless Snow Woman of the tales she'd been told as a child. She suddenly realized she was still standing in an attack posture as she faced her surprisingly gracious hostess, and felt color rise to her cheeks in embarrassment. She relaxed and bowed. "I - I would be honored," she replied.

--------------------

The tea was cold.

_Like _that_ should be a surprise_, thought Akane, as she gazed into her cup. Everything in Yuki-onna's household was cold, though not uncomfortably so, and Akane was surprised that it didn't seem to bother her at all. Still, she had been looking forward to a nice, _hot_ cup of tea.

"The spell that brought you here..." said the Snow Woman, sipping her tea delicately. "You should know that it nearly failed."

Akane looked up from her tea at the beautiful white apparition kneeling across from her, surprised. "What?"

"Yes. I'm not sure if you were meant to be transported somewhere specific within the Kami Plane, but for some reason the spell was weaker than it should have been, and you were nearly lost in between. I sensed the magic, and pulled you to safety in my domain."

_It was weakened_, Akane thought sadly. _Ranma's ki blast _almost_ worked._ Then she realized what Yuki-onna had said. "Wait a minute," she said, getting angry. "You pulled me to _safety_? When I came out of the... the spell, I was in the middle of a blizzard, and I nearly froze to death!"

"You were safe." Yuki-onna met Akane's gaze levelly. "I placed you in the blizzard as a test of your physical and spiritual strength. You did quite well. But you were never in any real danger."

"Well," snapped Akane, "it would have been nice to know that at the time!"

"Do you know who cast this spell on you?" asked the Snow Woman.

The question startled Akane out of her anger. "Uh, no, actually. I really haven't had a chance to think about it."

"Whomever it was must be a powerful warrior and sorcerer. Dragon blood, especially this old, is not easy to come by."

"Warrior and sorcerer?" Akane grimaced, and started counting off on her fingers. "Well, let's see, then it could be... Happosai, Cologne and/or Shampoo... um, Herb... Pantsuo... who else? I know I'm missing someone."

Yuki-onna's eyes widened in surprise. "So many? How is it that you have all these enemies?"

She sighed. "Well, most of them aren't really _my_ enemies. They're Ranma's enemies. The spell caught him too...." Akane trailed off, remembering Ranma, writhing in agony as the red aura seeped into his skin, the look of anguish on his face as he reached out to her, his hands passing through her insubstantial body. What had happened to him? Was he all right? She looked at her fingers, remembering the feel of his huge warm hand covering hers, and felt tears well in her eyes. She blinked them back, surprised at herself.

Her tears did not escape notice. "And who is Ranma?" asked the Snow Woman softly.

"He's my... my fiance."

Yuki-onna's frost-blue eyes clouded. "Fiance?" she asked, a distinct chill creeping into her voice. "And you love him, yes?"

Akane missed the tone of the question completely as she instinctively bristled at the words. "What?! Me, love that stupid, insensitive jerk?" Then Ranma's awkward, but sincere apology suddenly surfaced in her mind, and her anger faltered. "I - I... no, I mean... It was all our parents' idea!" she exclaimed uncertainly.

Yuki-onna gazed at her coolly. "You seem confused. Do you love him or no?"

Akane gazed into her tea miserably. "I- I don't know."

A half-smile crept onto the woman's cold white face. "Then let me give you some advice, child. Men are not worth the grief. Forget about him."

Akane looked up, blinking her wet eyes. "W-what?"

"Men are unfaithful to the core of their souls. If you put your trust in them, it is inevitable that they will betray you." Her piercing blue gaze made Akane shiver. "Have you not found this to be so?"

Akane looked down at her hands as she thought of Ranma and his 'other fiancees.' "Y-yes," she whispered.

The Snow Woman smiled, satisfied. "I have a proposal for you, Tendo Akane. As I mentioned, you passed the test of the storm remarkably well. Better than any mortal before you ever has. You are possessed of great physical and spiritual strength. With the proper training, your service would be of great use to me."

Akane looked up, her eyes worried, but determined. "Look, um, I don't mean to be rude, but I really don't want to stay here. You said that you might be able to break this spell and send me home?"

The Snow Woman sighed, her breath sending an icy breeze through the room. "I will be honest with you, Tendo Akane. The spell, even though weakened, is still very powerful. It will take me some time and study and a great deal of hard work before I can understand it enough to remove its effects from you."

Akane felt the bottom falling out of her world. "Time?" she asked. She couldn't keep her voice from shaking. "How much time?"

"Considering that the spell was supposed to hold you here for eternity, not very long in comparison."

"How long?"

Yuki-onna's normal icy gaze warmed with a sad compassion for her mortal guest. "Judging by the strength of the spell... About seven years."

Akane went numb with shock. _Seven years?! In seven years I'll be twenty-four years old! Who knows what could happen at home without me in seven years_? Ranma's face came unbidden to her mind, and scenes flashed into her mind of him wearing a wedding tuxedo, standing next to... Ukyo... or Shampoo... or... no, maybe not Kodachi. Not even that pervert Ranma would be _that_ sick.

She shook her head, trying to clear the images from her mind. But there was no avoiding it. The chances of Ranma still being there... being her fiance... after seven years were practically nil.

_Why am I thinking about Ranma?_ she cried silently. _It's not like I could... or that he likes..._

"You couldn't..." Akane looked at Yuki-onna, tears brimming in her eyes once again. "You couldn't get me home any sooner than that?"

Yuki-onna shook her head. "There are many other spirits, gods and demons who dwell in the Kami Plane who might be able to do it faster. But not many of them will be as kindly disposed towards you as I am." The white woman smiled sadly. "I must confess, one of the reasons I rescued you from the oblivion of between was because I sensed in you a kindred spirit. We are alike in many ways, you and I." She reached over and touched Akane's hand with cool fingers. "Stay with me for a while. I am in need of a body guard, for reasons that will soon become apparent. I know of your martial arts abilities; they served you well during my test. And during the time you serve me, I will be able to decipher a way to break the spell that binds you to this realm."

Akane could think of no alternative. Yuki-onna was her only hope. But seven years..! "I... I'll stay." she said softly, and tried to ignore the despair that settled into her heart.

The Snow Woman smiled.

--------------------

End of Part Two


	4. Voices

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

-------------------------

Hearts of Ice

Part 3: Voices

by Krista Perry

-------------------------

Dr. Tofu knocked softly on the front door of the Tendo household, then stepped back and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Kasumi had been brief and blunt on the phone, and upset enough that the tone of her voice managed to penetrate the usual infatuated fog that came over him whenever he saw her or heard her voice. He swallowed and performed a few simple breathing techniques, hoping that he could exercise enough self control to keep his synapses from misfiring during this emergency.

The door opened. Kasumi stood there, looking beautiful in spite of her pale face and tense expression. Tofu's heart thumped loudly, but the fog stayed down. _Kasumi needs me_, he thought. _I can't disappoint her by losing control_.

"Oh, Doctor Tofu, I'm so glad you could come." Kasumi's smile was strained, but sincere as she led him into the house. "Ranma hasn't regained consciousness, and Father and Nabiki seem to be suffering from shock. Genma seems to be holding up alright; he helped me with administering first aid. I guess he and Ranma have been through enough, that this...."

She trailed off, and Tofu nodded, a sardonic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. If being turned into a Panda and watching his only son change into a girl didn't send him into shock, _nothing_ would.

They entered the dining area. There was a large, perfectly round hole in the ceiling. Tofu blinked at it, then realized everyone else seemed to be ignoring it, or simply didn't notice it altogether. Then again, holes in the ceiling were a common thing in this household.

Kasumi had moved the table out of the way, and Ranma, Nabiki and Soun were stretched out on futons, covered with warm blankets. Genma knelt by his unconscious son's side, worry creasing his face. Tofu took one look at Ranma, taking in his deathly pallor, his shallow breathing, and the faint flicker of his dangerously depleted ki, and knew that the boy was in serious, but stable condition. He could tell that it had been a lot worse. He glanced at Kasumi. "You've handled this situation admirably," he said, his respect evident in his voice. "Your quick thinking has prevented a bad situation from getting worse."

Kasumi's tired eyes lit briefly at the praise, and she smiled, yet her heart ached strangely. It was nice to see Tofu so calm and collected, yet the price at having him this way was a bit high. _Someday..._ she thought sadly, unable to finish the thought.

Tofu felt the fog begin to rise at the sight of Kasumi's smile, so he turned towards his patients and forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. Nabiki and Soun both had their eyes open, but Nabiki's eyes were clear while Soun's were clouded and far away, tears streaming from his unblinking eyes. Not a good sign. Tofu knew immediately that Soun would be out of it for a while.

Nabiki gave Tofu a wry grin from her prostrate position. "Hey, Doctor. Glad you could join the party. Would you tell my sister that I'm fine so that she'll let me get up? I'm getting kind of hot under this blanket."

Tofu smiled gently as he knelt down next to her. "Just a moment, Nabiki, and then I'll decide whether you're ready to get up or not." He checked her over. Physically, she seemed to be recovering well, thanks to Kasumi's ministrations. Her ki appeared to be in balance. Ranma, on the other hand.... Now that he took a closer look at Ranma's ki, he could see something definitely strange about it, aside from the fact that the boy was almost completely drained. "Oh dear," he muttered.

"What?" Nabiki asked. "What is it? I feel better, really!"

Tofu shook his head. "Not you, Nabiki. You'll be fine. You can get up now if you like. I'm more concerned with Ranma and your father."

Nabiki gratefully crawled out from under her blankets and stood, a little unsteadily. She looked at her father, a strange look of sadness creasing her normally smooth, calm features. "Oh Daddy," she said softly. Kasumi came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. The last time they'd seen him this bad was when Mother had died. Akane....

She swallowed hard. Akane wasn't dead. She was just... gone. They could find her. Ranma would find her. That was one good thing about him. He may be a pain and a freeloading jerk who made their insurance rates skyrocket every time he put a new hole in the house, but when it came down to it, he always protected her sister. If anyone could figure out where she'd been taken, he could. As soon as he regained consciousness, that is.

She watched as Dr. Tofu knelt over Ranma, pushing pressure points all over his body with grim determination. Slowly, Ranma's skin lost some of its gray pallor, and his shallow breathing deepened to that of natural sleep. After a few minutes of concentrated work, Tofu leaned back and sat on his heels, his hands resting on his knees, and sighed.

"That's all I can do for now," he said wearily. "I've restored most of Ranma's ki flow. He should be waking up soon, but he'll need to rest. Now, would someone like to explain to me exactly what happened? I'd like to know exactly how Akane disappeared, and why Ranma's ki was almost completely depleted, as well as changed."

Genma glanced sharply at Dr. Tofu. "What do you mean, 'changed?' What's happened to my son?!"

"I might be better able to tell you that once someone informs me of the total situation."

"Okay, here's the deal," said Nabiki, her normal business-like demeanor slipping back into place. "This red swirly energy thing traveled clear across the sky to crash through our roof and attack Akane and Ranma. Ranma tried to stop it with a couple of really powerful ki blasts, and the last one almost worked, because it broke apart, but then it just formed back together and kept coming. When it got here, it engulfed Akane and Ranma, making Akane disappear, and filling Ranma with some of the weird red glow. Then it disappeared, and Ranma collapsed."

Tofu frowned, disturbed. For such a unique phenomenon to have such drastically different effects on two people.... It had the feel of unnatural magic about it -- very powerful, carefully considered magic. And the red glow could explain the strange taint to Ranma's ki. Tofu suppressed a shudder at the implications of his diagnosis.

"Well, those ki blasts must have been something," he said, facing Nabiki. "I've never seen anyone with such a low ki level. But tell me more about the 'weird red glow.' You said it filled him? What do you mean?"

"I mean that it kind of seeped into his skin, all over his body." Nabiki paused, grimacing. "It looked... really painful. After he passed out, I thought for sure he was going to wake up possessed or something."

"Hmm. I was afraid of that." Dr. Tofu stood and backed away from Ranma's still form. "I wouldn't totally rule that out just yet. It appears that the red glow you described has definitely altered Ranma's ki somehow. I'm not sure exactly what effect it will have on him, but we won't know until he regains consciousness. We should be prepared, just in case."

"In case what?" asked Kasumi.

"In case he becomes violent." Genma's voice was heavy with resignation. "We need to be able to restrain him until we can find a cure, isn't that right, Doctor?"

Tofu nodded glumly. "I hope there is a cure. I've never seen anything like this before."

Nabiki and Kasumi's eyes went wide. "Restrain Ranma?" Nabiki said, gasping. "But he's so... so strong. Will we be able to fight him if he's really--?"

"I'll help you," said a resolute voice. Everyone turned to see a slightly damp Ryoga standing just outside the patio doors. The determined look on his face crumbled to embarrassment under the combined stares. "I... uh, I'm sorry to intrude, but I was, uh... wandering around... and I saw the red light streak across the sky and crash into your house... and I came to see what was going on, and I, er, kind of eavesdropped. I'd... like to help."

_Please buy it, please buy it_, thought Ryoga, looking anxiously at each face in turn, waiting for someone to notice his dampness and the implausibility of his story, point their finger at him and say "Aha! You're P-chan! There's no other explanation for you being here!"

But no one did, much to his relief, although Nabiki did raise an eyebrow at him. He swallowed nervously and looked away as Kasumi smiled and said, "Come in, Ryoga. You are always welcome, and we appreciate the offer. But I don't think it will be necessary to fight Ranma. If we restrain him now, then we will be able to determine what has happened to him when he regains consciousness without the risk of him attacking."

"Good idea, Kasumi," said Nabiki. "Although hopefully the restraints won't be necessary in the end." _Because if they are, and Ranma really is under the influence of some malevolent magic, who will find Akane? Certainly not the smitten Lost Boy over there. He couldn't find his way out of a paper bag_.

Genma stood. "Kasumi," he said solemnly, "we need a length of the strongest chain you can find."

"Oh my." Kasumi looked at Ranma. "Do you really think that will be enough to... to hold him?" She had once witnessed Ranma break free after Happosai had him chained, sealed in concrete, and buried in the back yard.

Genma sighed and shook his head, a strange mixture of pride and apprehension playing over his features as he looked at his sleeping son. "Probably not," he admitted. "So we'd better pray that he's alright."

--------------------

Shampoo appeared to have regained much of her lost energy, for she was twirling and dancing around in ecstasy as she packed up her few belongings in preparation for the trip back to Japan. "Oh! Shampoo no can wait to see Ranma again!" She paused in her dance uncertainly, to face her great-grandmother. "You really think blood-spell work?"

Cologne scowled impatiently. "You're still questioning that after what you've seen? The power you felt? We used dragon blood straight from the Ancient One. Believe me, the spell has done its part. Akane is out of the way, and Ranma has been rendered incapable of following her. Now we need to do our part. You didn't forget to mail that postcard to Mousse, did you?"

Shampoo frowned. "Of course not, great-grandmother. We need good alibi. I send postcard as soon as we reach China. Stupid Mousse have it by now."

"Excellent. We must make haste to Japan at once, so that you can lend your support to Ranma in his efforts to find Akane, and comfort him when he at last comes to the realization that his search is hopeless."

Cologne's words brought one of Shampoo's fears to the surface. All this work would be wasted if Ranma suspected.... "How we make sure Ranma not realize we the ones who cast spell?"

Cologne smiled. It was an awful smile, cold and determined. The smile reinforced the fact that, now that the blood spell was cast, there truly was no turning back. It sent shivers down Shampoo's spine.

"Don't you worry about that, great-granddaughter," Cologne said, her eyes gleaming. "The time for straight-forwardness in dealing with Son-in-law has passed. Now a more... subtle touch is required. By the time I'm through with him, he'll be eating out of your hands." She laughed, but the sound was rueful, and devoid of humor.

Shampoo wanted to laugh with her, but the sudden sick feeling in her stomach prevented her, and all she managed was a weak smile. _No turning back now_, she thought to herself forcibly. _No turning back. You're committed to your course. Now is not the time to be getting cold feet, girl._

Shampoo had never been above being sneaky, but it had always been an _open_ kind of sneaky, where her motives were always plain to see. An _honest_ sneakiness, like when she used the hypnotic mushroom on Ranma. After sneaking it into his food and getting him to eat it, she made her intentions perfectly clear. Or like when great-grandmother gave Ranma the All-Over-Body-Cat-Tongue, so that he couldn't change back into a guy. The phoenix pill cure was always in plain sight, and Ranma was told exactly what he had to do to get it. No matter _what_ she did, no matter how sneaky it seemed on the surface, she always made sure the truth was out in the open once her plans were set in motion.

Now, though, the truth was to be buried deep, and she would have to live a lie for the rest of her life. But if it meant having Ranma by her side...

Shampoo's weak smile gained strength. "Eat out of hands?" she said, her doubts fading. "Shampoo can live with that."

--------------------

Waking up was like swimming to the surface of a lake of tar. Ranma felt thick and sluggish, the tar pressing into his eyes and ears, slowing his rise to consciousness. He could hear muffled voices just beyond the surface, speaking in urgent, anxious tones. Something was wrong up there, something Bad that he couldn't remember, something that existed only on the other side of the warm, thick blackness that filled his mind and body. If he stayed where he was, he wouldn't have to face the Bad thing.

Ranma slowly twisted that thought in his mind. The idea was appealing; staying, perhaps even sinking back into the warm, black depths from which he'd come. Normally, he wouldn't hesitate to take action and break the surface. But somehow he knew, because of some alien feeling whispering inside him, that this time, any action he took wouldn't be able to fix what was wrong beyond the darkness.

Still, the muffled, distorted voices sounded familiar... and concerned. He may not be able to fix the Bad thing, but perhaps he could help those people on the other side of the darkness in some way. The thought gave Ranma's sluggish mind focus, and, his decision made, he began to slowly rise through the smothering void.

The blackness gradually lightened, and with the light came both physical sensation and memory, each sharp and painful. Ranma broke the surface of consciousness with a gasp. "Akane...."

"He's awake," said a familiar voice. Ranma blinked his eyes open groggily, and found himself looking into the concerned, yet wary face of Dr. Tofu.

"How do you feel, Ranma?"

Ranma closed his eyes again. "Urrgh," he moaned. "Like someone's pushed me through a cheese grater." He opened his eyes and was surprised to see a relieved smile on Dr. Tofu's face. "Hey, that's not a good thing, you know," he grumbled.

He heard sighs of relief all around the room, and Nabiki chuckled softly. "Yup, I'd say he's the same old Ranma," she said.

That got his attention. "What are you talking about?" he asked, trying to sit up. "Of course I'm the sa--" At that moment, he realized that his hands were bound firmly behind his back and his arms were pinned to his sides with a length of sturdy chain. "What the--" His legs were bound tightly as well, from ankles to thighs. "What the heck is going on here?! Why am I chained up?"

Tofu put a calming hand on his shoulder, encouraged by Ranma's normal behavior. "Take it easy, Ranma. We'll remove the chains in just a moment. But first, can you tell me what you remember?"

"What I.--?" Images and feelings of his last few conscious moments flashed in Ranma's mind, and he swallowed as he suddenly felt tears build behind his eyes. _No! Guys don't cry_, he thought to himself fiercely, and blinked hard. But Akane had looked so... so _scared_. The image of her face in his mind tore at his heart. He'd never seen her as frightened as she was when she faded away, disappearing out of his grasp, silently screaming his name. And he hadn't been able to help her...

*You _couldn't_ help her,* said a strange, alien voice deep in side him; a voice that felt as thick and black as tar, and made him shudder convulsively. *You _can't_ help her.*

"I..." His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "I remember the spell..." He stopped, surprised that he realized what the thing was -- but then of course it was magic. It only made sense. Tofu nodded in confirmation and motioned for him to continue.

"It hurt... a lot," he admitted reluctantly. "I'm pretty sure it did... something... to me, because I have two very strong... feelings...." Ranma paused, as if unsure he was using the right word to describe what it was that had happened to him. "There are these two voices inside me that don't feel like... like they're part of me. It feels like they've been put there by something else." He sighed and looked down, his arms straining vigorlessly at his chains. "I know, it doesn't make any sense."

"It's alright, Ranma." Tofu hoped that the worry he felt didn't show on his face. "Can you describe what these 'feelings' are?"

Ranma raised his head and looked into Dr. Tofu's eyes. "Akane's alive," he said softly. "I don't know why, but this thing... this new voice inside me... wants me to know that."

There was a collective gasp around the room as hope flickered in everyone's hearts; everyone's except Ranma's. Even Soun blinked. Nabiki and Ryoga leaned forward intently. "Are you sure?" Nabiki asked with barely contained excitement. "Do you know where she is?" _Ah, the rescue is at hand_, she thought giddily, but then she saw the expression on Ranma's face, and her hopes plummeted.

Ranma felt his expression crack at Nabiki's question, and the tears threatened once again. "No," he said flatly, trying to fight the despair that welled within him. _Why should I care what happens to that violent tomboy anyway,_ he thought, but there was no real feeling behind the automated response.

_But you do care_, his own voice answered him. _You always have. You've always tried to protect her... and you've succeeded, until now._

Ranma's throat felt tight. "That... that's what the other feeling is," he whispered hoarsely. "There's this other strange voice inside me that keeps telling me that I'll never... n-never f-f-find h-her..." _Damn_, he thought as he felt the tears slip down his cheeks. He went to brush them away angrily, but his hands were still chained behind his back, so instead, he looked at the floor. The tears dripped off his nose and chin. He closed his eyes. After a moment, he sniffed. "Would somebody get these stupid chains off me," he growled when he'd gotten his voice under control.

Tofu looked at the distraught boy sadly. "Well, the spell may have done something to Ranma, but I think it's pretty safe to guess that the he's not going to attack us," he said softly. Genma knelt behind his son and began to remove the chains. When he was finished, Ranma knelt and rubbed the dampness from his face with the palms of his hands without looking up.

No one knew what to say. A feeling of utter helplessness filled the room.

Ryoga looked at Ranma in disbelief. _He loves her_, he realized, and felt his heart contract with despair. Because of his closeness to Akane as P-Chan, Ryoga knew more about Akane's secret feelings than anyone else, even Akane herself. Sometimes she would just think out loud, not realizing what she was saying, and not knowing that her unintentional revelations broke Ryoga's fragile heart over and over. Akane was always worried about Ranma, or angry at Ranma, or excited to try out a new recipe for Ranma, then angry at Ranma again when he would refuse to eat it. Sometimes -- and this was the worst -- she would talk in her sleep, and it was always Ranma's name that came unconsciously to her lips.

_But Ranma _can't_ love her!_ The implications of Ranma and Akane actually being a couple left Ryoga shaken. _He's always teasing and tormenting her, making her life miserable with his womanizing ways!_ Ryoga had held onto the belief that Akane's feelings for Ranma were one-sided, and secretly hoped that one day Akane would realize that Ranma would never love her... At least, not the way _he_ loved her... He was sure that Ranma's constant callousness would eventually turn her towards the true love that _he_ had to offer, and that they could live happily ever after.

No, Ranma was incapable of really loving Akane. He was too egotistical and selfish. After all, didn't he continually try to thwart Ryoga's attempts to get close to Akane, just so that he could maintain his monopoly on the women? Didn't he do it just to spite him, adding one more grievous injury to the lifetime list of offenses Ranma had committed against him? Ranma never did it because he was actually... jealous... did he?

Could it be that Ranma really loved Akane, in spite of all his protests to the contrary? But then, come to think of it, Akane protested just as much, and, much as it pained him, he _knew_ how she felt about Ranma...

Did any of it really matter, now that she was missing, and Ranma might be the only link to figure out how to get her back?

Ryoga felt his resolve harden. Getting Akane back was all that mattered now. He could put his turmoiled feelings aside for a little while and sort things out later. Looking at Ranma, Ryoga couldn't remember ever seeing him so despondent, not even the time when Happosai used that weird Shiatsu technique to steal his strength, making him weaker than a child, or when he thought he might be stuck as a girl forever after Herb splashed him with water from the Chiisuiton. Ryoga sighed, knowing what he had to do.

"So that's it then," he said. Everyone except Ranma was startled by the sharpness of his voice. "You're just going to give up, Ranma? Just because you're hearing voices that tell you that you can't find Akane? What kind of pathetic excuse of a man are you!" Ryoga sneered. "Maybe you've been spending too much time as a girl! Go curl up and boo-hoo in a corner, Ranma! You're not worthy to call yourself Akane's fiance!"

Ranma didn't look up, so Ryoga couldn't see his expression, but he saw Ranma's fists clench convulsively. A grim smile flickered on Ryoga's face.

"You say that it was a spell that took Akane away? Well, spells can be broken! And I for one am not going to give up until I figure out a way to get her back. So you can sit here and sulk and listen to your 'voices' for the rest of your life for all I care. You were never good enough for her anyway, Saotome, especially with the way you treated her all the time!"

Everyone stared at Ryoga, shocked. Ranma flinched as if he'd been hit, but he still didn't look up.

Nabiki frowned. "Hey, Hibiki, don't you think you're being a bit harsh? I mean, normally, I'd agree with you, but I don't think now's the time...."

_The knife's in_, Ryoga thought, ignoring Nabiki and looking at Ranma's tense form. _Now to twist it._ And he knew just what to say. He lowered his voice to an accusing whisper. "You couldn't even save her, Ranma. You just stood there and let her get taken away. What kind of a pathetic martial artist are you, that you can't do a simple thing like protect your fiancée?"

That did it. Ranma's head snapped up, and there was fire in his eyes. Before Ryoga could blink, Ranma had him by the front of his shirt and had slammed him against the wall, cracking paint and plaster. "You take that back, Ryoga, or I'll pound you into a pulp," Ranma snarled. "I'll show you! I'm going to find Akane no matter where she is, no matter what it takes! Even if I have to tear apart this whole planet to do it!"

Ryoga grunted as he tried to get air back into his lungs, and smirked. Ranma blinked, surprised. "What are you grinning at?!" he yelled.

"Glad to see you're feeling better, Ranma," he said, wheezing, and shrugging out of Ranma's grip. "You might actually be of some use, now that you're through moping around." He dusted the plaster chips off his shoulders.

"What?!" Ranma pulled back his fist to send Ryoga through the ceiling, but then he paused as his brain, for once, thought faster than his reflexes. His eyes widened in amazement. _Ryoga did that intentionally to provoke me out of my stupor_, he realized, as Ryoga continued to smirk. Ranma scowled. _I still want to send him through the ceiling though, 'cause I get the feeling not all of that was an act. But if I do that, then he might not be able to find his way back, and I _do_ need all the help I can get to find Akane...._

*You _can't_ find her, you _won't_...* whispered the spell-voice deep within his mind.

_Aw, shaddap_, he thought back fiercely. _Nobody's asking you_.

Ranma lowered his fist and stared hard at Ryoga. "The next time you say something like that, I'll send you to your funeral, Ryoga. So you'd better keep your mouth shut until _after_ we find Akane, got it? And wipe that smirk off your face before I change my mind."

Ryoga chuckled. "Sure thing, Ranma."

Ranma scowled.

"Well then," said Dr. Tofu after a moment, being the first to recover, "I guess the first order of business is to figure out what kind of magic this is so that we can know how to counter it. And I think I might know someone who can help us. One of my old senseis was very gifted at reading magic auras. He might be able to tell us what exactly has tainted your ki, Ranma."

Ranma turned to Tofu, grim determination written across his features, his blue eyes sparking with an inner fire that, for the moment, burned away the smothering black despair of the spell-voices within him. "What are we waiting for then? Let's go."

--------------------

"Hiiyyyiaa!!" Akane sent her fist through three solid blocks of ice, spraying herself with tiny slivers of cold, stinging shrapnel that melted against the warmth of her skin. It felt good to let off some steam... literally. The knowledge that she was going to be stuck in the Kami realm for at least seven years was eating at her heart. But smashing things bare-fisted always made her feel a little better. Usually.

Not this time.

Yuki-onna, who stood a few feet away, applauded. "Well done, Akane! You truly are a woman of strength."

Akane stood, flushing with exertion and pride at the unexpected praise. It had been such a long time since anyone had noticed that she actually possessed some talent when it came to martial arts, unless you counted that poetry-spouting drip Kuno, which she didn't. She always seemed to be in Ranma's shadow, or, even worse, Shampoo's and Ukyo's shadows, when it came to fighting ability.

"Well, I _have_ been training for some time now," she said, smiling as she brushed her hair out of her eyes.

"Excellent." The Snow Woman returned the smile in a way that made Akane wonder once again how such horrible tales could have been created about her -- tales of her taking delight in the slow, freezing death she inflicted on many a mere mortal. "I'm sure that your hard work will serve you well in the training you will receive here."

Akane's ego deflated. "More training?" _Jeeze, even Yuki-onna doesn't think my skills are good enough to win in a fight._

_Well, _duh_, Akane._ Ranma's voice suddenly popped into her head. _You may be strong and violent as a gorilla, but you're a total slow-poke._

Akane blinked, surprised at her train of thought, then frowned. _Well, _this_ is great_, she thought with disgust. _Now that Ranma's not around to insult me, my own brain is filling in for him._

Yuki-onna smiled, amused at Akane's expression. "Please, don't be upset. As I said, I _am_ impressed with your skill. However, you will need to develop your substantial abilities beyond what you know now if you are to defeat those who would invade my home."

Akane swallowed. There were so many things she still needed to learn about this place and her unusual hostess. "Uh, now that you bring that up, I've been meaning to ask you.... Who exactly will I be fighting, and why? And if you're going to train me, why do you need a body guard to fight for you?"

The Snow Woman laughed; a sound like wind through ice crystals. "What makes you think that I will be training you? My dear, I do have some small means of self protection, but most of my... talents... lie elsewhere. As for who and why you'll be fighting, let's just say that some of the denizens of this plane are rather... mortal in their appetites."

Akane looked at the Snow Woman, and couldn't help feeling a twinge of jealousy at the same moment she comprehended her meaning. Yuki-onna's unearthly beauty, her incredible mane of shimmering white hair that fell to her ankles, and her slender, yet perfectly rounded figure were enough to stun Happosai into a slobbering, twitching coma of lust, had he been there.

Akane sighed. "So I guess that means that men are the same no matter which plane of existence you're in."

Yuki-onna chuckled. "Ah, you _do_ understand."

Akane nodded sullenly, remembering morning after morning spent fighting her way through a thick wall of men on the grounds of Furinkan High School, all wanting to defeat her for the privilege of dating her, not one of them ever taking into account her own feelings on the matter.

Of course, Ranma had put a stop to that -- not that she'd asked him to. It wasn't like she couldn't handle those jerks herself. Ranma always seemed to interfere in her fights, butting in where he wasn't wanted. Well, there was no way he could do that now....

No way....

A wave of sadness suddenly swept over Akane. _Seven years. There's no way Ranma will wait that long for me to come back...._

Akane closed her eyes against the strange ache that filled her chest, and shook her head forcibly. _Why? Why do I keep thinking about Ranma?_ she thought weakly.

Suddenly, that tiny, whispering voice that she always tried so hard to ignore rose to the surface of her thoughts with a vengeance. _What do you mean _keep _thinking of him, you stubborn idiot? You _always_ think of him. You're just noticing it now because you know you're not going to see him for seven years, and you _miss_ him._

_You miss him_. Akane felt her lips start to tremble, and her vision swam with unshed tears.

"Akane?" Akane jumped as she felt a delicate, icy hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

She looked up into the Snow Woman's concerned face. "I... I'm fine," she stuttered, blinking her wet eyes and swallowing the lump that thickened her throat. "I was just thinking about... home."

Yuki-onna frowned, sensing something else behind her words. "You were thinking about your fiance."

Akane looked at her feet, her eyes burning as the tears threatened, and didn't notice the hard look on the Snow Woman's face. "I... I don't know why. It's not like I love the jer--"

_Liar._

Akane was startled into silence by the forcefulness of her own mental voice.

_Lair. You love him_. Akane jaw tightened. She swallowed and blinked, sending the tears spilling down her cheeks.

_You love-- No. Not _you, Akane thought to herself, a strange calm settling over her. _No more self-deception_. I_ love him_.

As soon as she thought it, she knew it was true, like a beam of sunlight piercing a black fog. Akane suddenly smiled tremulously through her tears as she felt a dark, heavy burden lift from her heart and felt it fill with another, brighter emotion until she thought she would burst. She experienced a moment of pure joy beyond anything she'd ever experienced as she realized what it was like to really love someone, freely and without fear.

_I. Love. Ranma_.

Then the moment passed. The joy pressed out of her as a new weight settled over her heart. Her smile trembled, then shattered as she sank to her knees, sobbing quietly, wrapping her arms tightly around her chest in a futile attempt to hold in the pain as she finally accepted the whispering voice as her own. _I love him. I love him and I never told him, and now I'll never get the chance, and I'll probably never see him again, and he probably hates me, I've been so mean to him...._

_Why now? Why did it take _this_ for me to realize what I've known all along?_

Yuki-onna stared coldly at the weeping girl at her feet. She should have known. But the girl had seemed so strong. A true kindred spirit, not at all like most quivering mortals who had stumbled into her realm every odd century or so. Sentimental fools, the lot of them. She should have realized it before, and left the girl in the void between planes instead of using her precious energy and magic to rescue her.

**Don't be so hard on the girl, Yuki-chan. She is young, and doesn't have the eternity of experience that you possess.**

Yuki-onna inclined her head and scowled at the telepathic intrusion into her thoughts. **Masakazu-san, how many times have I told you to stay out of my head?**

**Too many, dear, too many. But as always, you should listen. You need this girl. She is very strong, in spite of the display she's putting on at the moment. You forget that even the strongest mortal is fragile when they first find themselves transported here by magic or mayhem or some such. I, for one, am surprised she didn't break down sooner.**

**She thinks she's in love.** Disdain permeated the Snow Woman's response.

There was no reply. Yuki-onna smiled grimly. He wouldn't dare respond to that.

**Don't be so cocky, Yuki-chan. You were in love once too, no matter how much you try to deny it.**

Of all the impertinence! **That was a mistake,** the Snow Woman snapped back. **I should have frozen him with the other one and left them dead together. I should have killed him inch by inch and let him feel the ice around his heart, I should have--**

**Now now, calm down, you've missed my point completely.** Masakazu's mental voice was firm, and effectively silenced her. **Mistake or not, you _did_ fall in love, and you are Yuki-onna. The child in front of you is not. She is human. She is mortal. Mortals fall in love. You must accept that, and allow the girl her sorrow.**

The Snow Woman was silent a moment as she watched Akane shudder with her sobs. **She cannot defend my household in such a state,** she replied, almost petulantly.

Masakazu heaved a mental sigh. **She will recover. Do not discount the strength you sensed just because the child displays an emotion you cannot abide in yourself.**

Yuki-onna's smooth white forehead creased in anger, and she readied a retort. But then she paused. Masakazu was even more ancient than herself, and his wisdom had helped her often in the past. Often enough that she knew she should set aside her anger and take his advice. **Very well.** She sighed. **What should I do?**

**Well, first off, I'd say something to the girl. She's starting to gain control and is wondering if you are angry with her. Which you are, but don't show _her_ that. You need a strong ally, not an intimidated servant. Besides, you weren't too far off in your first assessment of her. She _is_ a kindred spirit. Give her a chance.**

Yuki-onna frowned, but then her expression softened as she looked at Akane's shuddering form and she remembered the feel of the girl's spirit. She _was_ strong, this one. Hesitantly, she reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. Akane stiffened, but then she looked up, her face wet, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed.

"I never t-told him," she said, snuffling. "I love him, and he'll n-never know...."

Yuki-onna sighed inwardly. Perhaps in time she could teach the child that there were more... substantial pursuits than fickle romance. "I'm sorry, Akane. I want you to know that I'll do my best to break the spell as soon as possible. In the meantime, I hope you can be happy here."

Akane nodded miserably. "I-I'll try."

**Good girl, Yuki-chan. There may be hope for you yet.**

The Snow Woman snarled mentally, careful not to let the expression reach her face. **For the last time, Masakazu-san, get out of my head and get your feathered tail over here. Akane needs to be trained as soon as possible.**

**You're wish is my command, Yuki-chan.** Masakazu's chirping chuckle echoed in her head.

--------------------

Yuki-onna stood in her bed chamber before a full-length mirror. She admired herself a moment, running her thin, white fingers thoughtfully through a silky length of white hair that shimmered with all the colors of the spectrum, as she debated the wisdom of what she was considering.

She would never admit it to Masakazu -- then again, he probably already knew, much to her chagrin -- but Akane's grief had shaken her. Had she ever been that passionate over a man?

The corners of her mouth turned into a slight frown, and she knew her curiosity must be satisfied. Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward and blew softly on the mirror's surface. A perfect sheen of frosted ice formed over the glass. In the ice, a moving image began to form. She blew again. The ice cleared of frost, and the image sharpened.

"Twice," she muttered to herself. "I'm getting rusty." But then it had been a while since she'd used the mirror. She looked at the image intently.

The image centered on a young man with a mop of dark hair tied into a pigtail, wearing a red Chinese shirt and black pants, running over the rooftops of a Tokyo suburb. He was followed by three other men, who were trying in vain to get him to slow down, the most adamant of which was a young man with light brown hair wearing glasses and a dark blue gi. "Ranma, wait!" The man's voice sounded small and distant through the ice. "We needed to turn left two streets ago!"

"And I thought _I_ was bad with directions," said another young man with a shock of dark hair hanging over a yellow and black bandanna.

Ranma stopped and, without missing a beat, flipped in the opposite direction and began running back, passing his three frustrated companions in the process. "Why didn't you say so?" he called angrily as leapt to another roof top.

"We _tried_," yelled the older man, who was wearing a white handkerchief over his bald head, "but you were so far ahead you couldn't hear us."

"So keep up already!" Ranma called back without turning. "We can't waste anymore time!" His three companions sighed and began following as best they could.

Yuki-onna raised a slender white eyebrow, intrigued. "Closer," she whispered. The ice swirled and cleared until it showed Ranma's face. His expression was one of determination and anxiety, his blue eyes clear and narrowed in concentration.

"Well. He is handsome, I'll give him that. So this is the one who hold's Akane's heart." She smiled coldly. "We'll see how long that lasts."

--------------------

End of Part Three


	5. Shadows of Revalation

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 4: Shadows of Revelation

by Krista Perry

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"So is this it?" Ranma asked impatiently, eyeing the small two-story medical clinic wedged in between the larger business buildings on the outskirts of Tokyo.

Tofu nodded affirmatively, since he was too winded to speak at the moment and was busy gulping air into his lungs. He had to admire Ranma's durability; the boy had barely broken a sweat on their rooftop run. It wasn't that he himself was out of shape, per se. He worked out every morning before opening the clinic, but it had been a while since he had focused on the endurance aspect of his martial arts training, preferring the healing arts above all else. Still, he took a rather perverse comfort in knowing that Genma, and even Ryoga were gasping a little.

Ryoga glared at Ranma as his breathing leveled out. He was used to traveling great distances, just not in such a... short amount of time... and Ranma was unbelievably fast when he wanted to be. "Ranma, you idiot! What's the big idea taking off like that? We would have gotten here a lot sooner if you had slowed down and waited for directions."

Ranma didn't even look at him. "Shut up, Ryoga. Like you're one to talk about waiting for directions."

"Hey, I wait for them, I just..." Ryoga trailed off and seethed. He hated admitting that he couldn't seem to get directions right, no matter how carefully he paid attention.

"That's enough, you two." Tofu straightened, getting his breathing under control. He rapped lightly on the door. The door opened a moment later to reveal an old man with wise eyes and grey hair tied back into a short, neat pony tail, much like the one worn by Dr. Tofu. The old man's face creased in a surprised smile. "Ono-kun, you're here already? My, that was quick."

Tofu bowed and returned the smile. "We, ah... took the high road, Kintaro-sensei,"

The old man chuckled. "I see." As if to prove the point, his eyes scanned the group with the piercing gaze that Tofu remembered so well from his days as a student under Kintaro-sensei's kindly, yet careful tutelage. There never seemed to be detail that his former teacher missed, a symptom that he ever overlooked. The old man quickly assessed the situation, his gaze lingering on Ranma. The boy looked back steadily for a few moments, then began fidgeting uncomfortably under the intense scrutiny.

"This must be Ranma," the old man said, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "Yes, yes... I see what you mean, Ono-kun. There is definitely a strange magic affecting his ki." Kintaro stopped suddenly, and looked chagrined. "But where are my manners?" He gestured for Ranma and the others to enter the clinic. "Please, come in. Then I can make a proper examination, and we'll see what we can discover about this spell that has been cast over you."

"And Akane," Ranma said. "We need to find out where Akane is." He grimaced, almost as if in pain as the spell-voice swelled within him, once again whispering hopelessness to his soul. He pushed it down forcefully. "Whatever got me got her too."

Kintaro nodded sympathetically. "I'll see what I can do," he said, ushering them into an inner office.

The inside of the clinic was much like Dr. Tofu's, except that there were many more books and scrolls on the shelves, some of which looked so ancient that it appeared they might crumble at a touch. Kintaro motioned for Ranma to get onto the examination table. He then looked at Ryoga and Genma. "Would you mind waiting in the outer office? I need as little distraction as possible for this examination."

Genma looked ready to protest, but a look from Dr. Tofu silenced him. Reluctantly, he followed Ryoga out the door. Tofu made to follow, but Kintaro restrained him with a hand. "Ono-kun, I'd like you to stay and assist me. Ranma is your patient, and I expect you know him well. Perhaps you can explain to me why I see two separate and extremely different magics linked to his ki, when you only mentioned the one spell on the phone?"

Tofu glanced at Ranma, who was staring at his lap and twisting his fingers, his face flushing with embarrassment. Tofu coughed delicately. "Oh, well, I guess in all the excitement and rush to get over here, I forgot to mention the, ah... little curse that Ranma is under."

Kintaro-sensei raised his gray eyebrows, and looked at Ranma again. "Curse? No, you didn't mention it. What is the nature of the curse?"

"Have you ever heard of Jusenkyo?"

The old man's eyebrows shot up even further. "The Cursed Springs?" He looked at Ranma's aura intently. "So, it's not a myth after all. Tell me, boy, what do you change into?"

Ranma felt a strange combination of acute embarrassment and relief. If the old man was familiar with Jusenkyo, he might know of a way to break the spell that had taken Akane away. He supposed he shouldn't have been so surprised at the old man's unusual knowledge. After all, this guy had been Dr. Tofu's sensei, and Dr. Tofu had helped him counter some of the worse stuff that Cologne and Happosai had thrown at him.

On the other hand, even though he had grown accustomed to his curse, he really, _really_ hated it when people first found out about it. It always made him feel humiliated, though he tried not to show it, and it unfailingly brought to his mind the feelings of horror and anguish he felt when he plunged into the spring and felt his body shift with the change for the first time. He had known what had happened instantly; the sensations of the changes his body underwent from the inside out didn't leave much doubt in his mind. He knew, and for one brief, despairing moment was tempted to stop struggling and let himself drown, thinking that the change was permanent. But then his indomitable survival instinct kicked in, and he thrashed desperately to the surface. Gasping for breath, he peered through unfamiliar locks of dripping red hair that were plastered against his face as his hands tentatively explored his chest and confirmed what the sensations already told him. Then he looked down at himself, and the horror that had been building in him erupted in a soprano scream.

Ranma shuddered at the memory, then realized that Kintaro-sensei was still awaiting an answer. He squirmed miserably on the examination table.

Kintaro-sensei put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "I understand your discomfort, Ranma. I'm sure your curse must not be an easy thing to bear. However, I'm going to find out anyway, since you will have to change to help me differentiate between the magic of the curse and the magic of the spell. It would probably be better if you told me now rather than waited for me to be surprised."

Ranma sighed and looked at the floor. How could he even be worrying about his stupid curse, which he'd had for over a whole year, when Akane was missing? "I fell into the Spring of... of Drowned..." Ranma stopped and almost had to choke the word out. "...Girl."

Kintaro kept his face carefully neutral. "Ah," he said, and was silent for a long moment. "Well," he said finally, "it could have been worse, or so I've heard."

"I guess so," Ranma mumbled. "No offense, but could we get on with this?"

The old man nodded and adopted a clinical manner. "Tofu-sensei," he said, addressing his former pupil in a more formal manner, "would you bring me some hot and cold water? I'd like to find out which part of his aura is which before I start trying to pick apart this spell."

Dr. Tofu complied, and Ranma closed his eyes as Kintaro-sensei upended a glass of cold water over his head. Much to his relief, the old man refrained from comment, and instead concentrated on his, now her, aura.

Tofu glanced briefly at his former sensei, and could see the same amazement in his expression that he had felt the first time he had witnessed Ranma change. The bright flare of the peculiar sparkling in the boy's aura as the transformation took place was a sight to behold, for those like himself who had eyes to see such things. This time, though, he could see how the deep red flicker of the spell was interwoven not only with Ranma's regular ki, but with the curse magic as well. It seemed to have penetrated every part of him. He could see his sensei drawing the same conclusions, as well as making discoveries that were, as yet, beyond his own capabilities.

Ranma waited impatiently with her eyes closed, holding perfectly still, not wanting to disturb Kintaro and Tofu's concentration. Then she felt hot water spill over her head, and in moments was back to himself. He opened his eyes. "Well?"

Kintaro-sensei's mouth was pinched in a worried frown. "This spell is strong, boy. I've never seen its like."

"Do you know what kind of spell it is?" asked Tofu.

"I have a suspicion, but I need to look through a few of my books before I make any judgments. You can let the others in now. I'll be in my study for a few minutes." Kintaro left through a door in the back of the office, while Tofu let Genma and Ryoga come back in.

"So, what's the news? Does he know how to get Akane back?" Ryoga looked anxiously at Dr. Tofu.

Tofu shook his head. "Not yet, but he thinks he may know what kind of spell it is. I'm sure he's researching it right now."

Ranma slid off the examination table and began pacing back and forth. "I hope this doesn't take too long," he said irritably. With every moment that passed, he could feel the spell-voice wearing down his perseverance with its insistence on his pre-determined failure. He clenched his fists and fought the feeling back again. He would _not_ give up, never in a million years. Akane was alive somewhere, and he was going to find her.

Ryoga leaned against the wall and watched Ranma, full of nervous energy, pace the room. After a few minutes of watching without comment, he began to wish that Dr. Tofu hadn't restored _all_ of Ranma's ki flow. He briefly considered pounding his rival into the floor just so that he would stop his nervous fidgeting, since it was really getting on his nerves. He abandoned the idea after realizing that if Ranma were unconscious, it could possibly hinder the search for Akane.

Just then, Ryoga noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw a small animal pad silently through the slightly open door that led to Kintaro-sensei's study. It was a cat. A long-haired orange tabby, to be precise. Ryoga guessed that the cat belonged to Kintaro-sensei, since it wore a collar, and appeared quite comfortable as it strolled casually into the examination room.

Ryoga suppressed an evil grin, and wondered how long it would take Ranma to notice it.

He had heard somewhere that, when in a room full of people, cats can somehow pick out the biggest cat-hater in the lot, and go right to them. It certainly seemed to be true in this case. The cat went straight to the pacing Ranma, and rubbed against his legs affectionately.

Ranma froze in mid pace. His eyes grew to the size of saucers, staring straight ahead.

The cat entwined itself around his legs, looked up at Ranma inquisitively, and meowed.

Ranma's features fled to the perimeters of his face in terror, and he began to shake uncontrollably. Almost as if against his will, his head bent itself at the neck and forced his watering eyes to look down.

"Mraowr?"

"GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" Ranma leapt straight up in the air and clung desperately to the light fixture that hung from the ceiling. His primal scream sent the poor cat scurrying out of the room, its claws scrabbling on the floor tile. Tofu stared at Ranma in amazement. Genma looked disgusted, and Ryoga just smirked.

A moment later, Kintaro burst into the room and joined the other three staring at Ranma who still hung from the ceiling, his eyes glazed in terror, his trembling threatening to loosen the light fixture from its fastenings and send it crashing to the floor.

"What on earth happened in here?" demanded Kintaro.

"C-c-ca-... C-c-c-ca..!" Ranma stuttered incoherently.

"What Ranma is trying to say," said Ryoga casually, "is that a cute little kitty-cat just came in and rubbed up against his legs."

Kintaro blinked. "You don't say?" He looked piercingly at Ranma. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say from his reactions that he's been exposed to Cat-fist training."

Genma cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, uh, he has. I trained him in the Nekoken when he was ten years old."

"What?!" Kintaro turned on Genma angrily, his usual friendly countenance clouded with anger. Genma shrank against the wall, away from the fierceness of his gaze. "Are you crazy?! What on earth possessed you to do such a thing to your own son? Didn't you know what the consequences would be?!"

"Well," said Genma, shriveling, "no. I, er... never made it to that page in the instruction manual." Then he straightened, and stared back defensively. "But the Cat-fist technique has helped him win battles against some of his most powerful enemies."

"I see," Kintaro said coldly. "It's nice to know that you believe winning a fight is more important than your son's sanity." Genma flinched. Kintaro looked back at Ranma's trembling form, and frowned. "If you could see what I see," he continued darkly, "your opinion of the Cat-fist might change drastically. The technique wasn't banned without reason, you know."

Genma's brow creased in confusion, and he squinted at Ranma, wondering what the old man saw that he didn't. All he could see was his son gibbering in terror, which was enough of an embarrassment as it was. What could be worse than that? He watched as Tofu stood on the examination table and gently pried Ranma's shaking fingers from the light fixture, then lowered the boy back to the table.

Ryoga looked at the floor. Somehow, Kintaro's reaction to Ranma's phobia had spoiled the fun of seeing his arch rival tremble in terror. And what had he meant by "if you could see what I see?"

He quietly posed his question to Tofu when the young doctor came to stand beside him against the wall as Kintaro pushed various pressure points on Ranma in an effort to help the boy relax. "What did he mean by that?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Tofu whispered back, his expression grim. "I knew that Ranma had a phobia of cats, but I didn't realize it was connected with the Nekoken, and I've never actually seen him before when he's had an... attack like this. But I did notice a strange grayness in his aura, especially around his head, that appeared as soon as he noticed the cat. That might be what Kintaro-sensei was referring to."

Kintaro smiled encouragingly at Ranma, who looked a little better as a result of his ministrations. "I'm sorry about my cat, Ranma. I usually let her wander the clinic at night. She keeps the mice away, and she's good company. But she's gone for the night," he added quickly, as Ranma's eyes began to dart around furtively. "Last I saw her, she ran past me and was out the window in a flash." Ranma relaxed only slightly.

"I do have news about the spell," he continued. That got Ranma's attention, and his trembling ceased abruptly. Ryoga, Tofu and Genma leaned forward as well.

"What? What is it? Can you break it?" Ranma asked in a rush.

"I'm afraid this is beyond my capabilities," Kintaro said. Ranma groaned and put his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Ranma, but all the signs point to this being a blood spell of some kind, and spells cast with blood are not only nefarious and unscrupulous in the extreme, but very hard to break."

Ranma lifted his head. "A blood spell? What the heck is that?"

"Just what it sounds like. A spell cast with the blood of a living creature. The more powerful the creature, the more powerful the spell. From what I can see in your aura, I would guess that the blood used was at least human, or possibly even that of a magical animal or spirit beast."

Ranma slid off the table, turned and slammed his fist down in frustration, sending cracks through the wooden base. Kintaro raised an eyebrow at the property damage, but said nothing. "There's gotta be _some_ way to get Akane back," Ranma said, fuming.

"Well," said Kintaro thoughtfully, "my first suggestion would be to find out who cast the spell in the first place."

Ranma froze, staring at Kintaro. "What?" he asked. "What did you say?"

Kintaro looked at Ranma. "I said that you should find out who cast the spell."

Ranma's eyes widened in disbelief, and he smacked himself in the forehead. "Oh duh!" he exclaimed. For some reason, it hadn't occurred to him that there was a caster behind the spell, even though it now seemed so obvious. The spell couldn't exactly have conjured itself, after all. So then who--?

A small gasp escaped Ranma's throat as all the little mysteries that had been plaguing him all day clicked into place with frightening clarity. The strange premonition he felt that morning while running to school, that peaked when he realized Shampoo hadn't attacked him all week... His conversation with Mousse, and finding out that the Chinese boy had experienced the same feeling.... The postcard from China.... The way the red glow rose out of the western sky....

Ranma's eyes narrowed, and a snarl escaped his lips. "Why, that old GHOUL! I'm gonna kill her! If she thinks she can get away with this...."

"Hold on," said Ryoga, holding up his hands, his voice edged with sudden nervousness. "Wait a minute, Ranma. Are you trying to say that Cologne is behind all this?"

But Ranma wasn't listening. He turned to Kintaro. "Mousse got a postcard from Shampoo today. It said that she and Cologne are in China doing some kind of special training. Is it possible for them to cast a blood spell in China and have it travel all the way to Japan to get Akane and me?"

Kintaro frowned. "I'm not really sure if there are spacial limits to a blood spell. I wouldn't rule it out as a possibility, however."

"Then it has to be them!" Ranma's eyes glinted dangerously, and for a moment, Ryoga felt sorry for Shampoo and Cologne. But only for a moment. After all, they were the ones who made Akane disappear. Ryoga's brow furrowed in anger, his blood boiling as his sentiments suddenly mirrored Ranma's exactly.

"The postcard said they would be getting back to Japan on Tuesday," Ranma continued, his battle aura flaring around his body. "And when they get back, I don't care _what_ it takes, I'm gonna force them to reverse whatever it is they've done to Akane!"

Ryoga walked over to face his rival, his face set with determination. "Ranma, I know that we've had our differences, but just this once I'm going to stand with you. You need all the help you can get if you're going against Cologne and Shampoo." He hadn't forgotten how the old crone had used him, teaching him the Breaking Point technique, deceiving him into believing that he could destroy Ranma with it, when all it was really good for was breaking rocks. He clenched his teeth and, almost against his will, stiffly held out his hand. "Truce?"

Ranma stared at the outstretched hand blankly for a moment. Then his face softened into a wry half smile, and he clasped Ryoga's hand firmly. "Truce."

"Now don't get any funny ideas that we're friends or nothing. I'm doing this for Akane, not you, got it?"

Ranma nodded grimly. "For Akane."

--------------------

Outside the window of Kintaro-sensei's clinic, a lone figure crouched silently in the shadows, listening intently to every word spoken inside. For this one night, Mousse was glad of his vision impairment. His hearing was much more acute because of it, making up for what he lacked in the other sense.

Ranma had confirmed his worst fears. Well, maybe not his _worst_ fears. As soon as the red blur of energy streaked across the sky heading towards the Tendo Dojo, Mousse knew that whatever Shampoo and Cologne had done in China had come to fruition. He followed the red blur quickly, reaching the Tendo household just after the spell had done its dirty work and disappeared. He then spied and listened from the Tendo roof to all that followed. He was sure that Ranma would regain consciousness with his brain completely addled by the spell, a spell that Mousse knew would cause Ranma to forget the now-absent Akane and fall in love with Shampoo.

But that wasn't the case at all. Mousse was completely baffled, yet strangely relieved. If Shampoo _was_ behind the spell, why didn't she make Ranma fall in love with her? Didn't she know that by taking Akane away, she would just arouse his anger? Ranma may be a womanizing jerk, but it was obvious to all observers -- even Shampoo -- that, out of all his fiancees, Ranma's feelings (such as they were) were strongest for Akane.

And now he knew that the spell cast on Ranma and Akane was a blood spell. Mousse shuddered. Surely Shampoo would never stoop to such sinister magic. Cologne, on the other hand.... She might not be above casting a blood spell, as long as it suited her needs, and Mousse was painfully aware of how easily Cologne could convince Shampoo to go along with her less-scrupulous plans, especially if Ranma was the prize dangled in front of her.

But whether or not Shampoo was actually responsible for the spell or not, Ranma now believed that she was. There would be a battle, and, as good a fighter as she was, Shampoo could not hope to defeat Ranma. She might be hurt; seriously so if Ranma's anger was great enough.

Mousse could not allow that to happen.

He stood and carefully edged away from the window. He had plans to make before Tuesday.

--------------------

Akane knelt at the dining table and picked despondently at her rice with her chopsticks. Yuki-onna had left a few hours earlier, saying that she needed to attend to some personal business. At the Snow Woman's directions, the household servants had attended to her every need -- even the pompous Kazuo had served her dinner, much to his chagrin. The little ice man hadn't warmed up to her in the least. She couldn't blame him really, since she _had_ nearly attacked him when she first arrived.

Now, though, the servants were nowhere to be seen. That was odd. She rested her chin on her hand with her elbow on the table and sighed, twirling her chopsticks idly. She still felt a little shaky from her exhausting cry hours ago, when she'd finally admitted to herself that she loved Ranma. Not that it did any good now that he was out of her reach for at least seven years. Seven years during which he would probably marry one of his other fiancees.

She felt her eyes tear again at the thought, but swallowed hard and angrily swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. What was done was done, and there was nothing she could do about it. The blood spell held her to the Kami plane, and it would take the Snow Woman at least seven years to break its hold on her. But at least it _could_ be broken. She would be able to go home, eventually. But go home to what kind of life, without Ranma?

She cut off the thought. She would go crazy if she dwelled on it further. Best to take the Snow Woman's advice and take it one step at a--

Akane froze as she suddenly felt another presence in the room. She turned quickly... but the room was empty.

She tensed. The feeling of another presence still tingled strongly in the back of her mind. Her eyes scanned the room carefully, trying to spot anything out of place. She suddenly wished she'd paid closer attention to her surroundings, since she wasn't sure that if something _was_ out of place, she'd realize it. Cautiously, she stood and turned her back to the table, instinctively bringing her hands up into a defensive posture.

"Who's there?" she called, hesitant, yet angry that someone was trying to spook her. "Kazuo? This isn't funny...."

A shift in the air current behind her was all the warning she had, but before she could turn, something whacked her hard in the back of the head and sent her flying into the opposite wall. The impact knocked the air out of her in a _whoosh_, and she groaned, sliding down the wall. As she tried to suck the air back into her lungs, she could feel a throbbing lump growing at the base of her head. _Wh-what hit me?_

Her feet touched the floor, and she turned, fighting dizziness, to face the room. She pressed her back against the wall, glad to have something solid behind her.

The room was empty.

Cold fear gripped her heart. Something was there; she could _feel_ it... and not just because of the evidence throbbing at the base of her head. She crouched defensively, trying to see in all directions at once, fighting the panic that was rising in her chest. _How can I fight something I can't see?_ she thought. _It figures that the house would be attacked before I could even get a chance to learn how to defend it. I have no idea how to fight a spirit!_

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of reddish-brown, and had the impression of glittering black eyes coming straight for her. Her martial arts instinct kicking in, she turned swiftly to meet the attack, bringing her hands up to block. But the thing moved right through her defenses and landed numerous blows on her face, chest and stomach, sending her skidding several meters across the floor.

She staggered to her feet, her body on fire with pain. Blackness flickered at the edges of her vision as unconsciousness threatened to overwhelm her. She could taste blood in her mouth, and one of her eyes was swelling shut. _Seven years?_ she thought bitterly. _I'll be lucky to survive the next seven minutes!_ She looked around, but sure enough, there was no sign of her attacker. The unfairness of the entire situation broke over her like a tsunami, and anger surged within her. To lose Ranma, her family, and now possibly her life at the hands of some unseen demon was just too much for one night.

"Show yourself, coward!" she yelled in frustration. "Why don't you fight me fair?!"

"Duh, Akane." Akane paled as Ranma's voice suddenly spoke out of nowhere. "I don't see what your problem is. You always complained that I held back too much during our sparring matches. Well now I'm not holding back. It's what you wanted, isn't it? To have a real fight? To not be coddled like some fragile girl? If you want a 'fair' fight, you shouldn't try to go against someone who's better than you. Which in your case is just about everybody."

"R-Ranma?" Akane whispered through swelling, bleeding lips. The voice was his; some of the words too, but the _tone_ was full of sneering contempt. Even when Ranma teased her the worst, she never heard _that_ in his voice. And, above all, Ranma would _never_ hit her, not even in their sparring matches. No, of course it wasn't Ranma. It was a trick of some kind. The predator playing with its prey. _This is the Kami plane, remember?_ she thought to herself. _Who knows what the inhabitants are capable of?_

A reddish blur streaked in her peripheral vision. Akane moved to block, but was struck in the side of the head and sent reeling. She fell hard on her rump.

"Heh. Slowpoke." Still Ranma's voice.

Akane clenched her fists, pushing herself to her feet again. "Shut up!"

"You might as well face it, Akane. You're just a girl. You'll never be as good as me."

A red haze settled over Akane's vision, a combination of pain and fury, overwhelming the part of her that knew the voice really wasn't Ranma. "Oh yeah?" she shouted. "Well who are you to talk? You're a girl half the time yourself, you stupid pervert!"

"Eh, wha--?"

Akane suddenly realized that the reddish blur was closing in on her again from behind, but had paused in surprise at her last exclamation. Dropping to the floor, she rolled, instinctively kicking backward with her right leg. To her satisfaction, she felt her foot connect solidly with a body, and heard an "oof!" She had scored a hit! Smiling painfully through split lips at the small victory, she turned and sprang to her feet to face her attacker.

Her jaw sagged in amazement.

"Well well!" said a tenor-pitched, wizened voice altogether unlike Ranma's. "Not bad for an untrained, clumsy fledgling like yourself." The creature that stood before her clutching its stomach bowed briefly, then raised its ruddy, feathered arms in a strange gesture of salute. Its solid black birdlike eyes blinked mischievously at her over a wide, pointed beak set in a feathered face that had not a single trace of humanity to it. The whole creature, from the top of its head to the base of its ankles, was covered in fine feathers the color of burnt umber. Below the ruff of feathers at its ankles were reddish, predatorial taloned feet. It wore a cloak about its shoulders of tightly woven, yet supple green pine boughs.

Akane was too stunned to react to the "untrained, clumsy" remark. "Wha... what... W-who are..?" she stuttered.

The strange bird-man bowed. "I am Masakazu, the Tengu. And you, my dear, had better get used to seeing strange creatures like myself pop up from time to time, or you'll never be able to defend Yuki-onna's household. Most of the inhabitants of the Kami plane are much less attractive than myself, and the way you're stuttering right now, with your defenses completely open, I could have defeated you ten times over."

Akane blinked as she tried to shift her brain back into gear. "You're a tengu?" Akane remembered reading about the mysterious race of ancient bird people who were both great warriors and incorrigible tricksters. _More mythology come to life,_ she thought dazedly. _Next, I suppose a kappa will come knocking at the front door asking for cucumbers._

The tengu's expressionless bird face didn't change, but his black eyes twinkled. "Yes, I believe that's what I said. I have come to train you in the martial arts so that you will be a suitable body guard for our mutual friend, the lovely Yuki-onna."

"You... you know martial arts?" _Stupid! What kind of question is that? He just beat the crap out of you!_

Masakazu laughed; a short chirping sound. "Know martial arts? My dear, my people _invented_ martial arts. Who do you thing taught humans how to master it in the first place?"

Akane stared. "Uh, I never really thought about it, actually."

The tengu's strange black gaze grew serious. "Good. Because the martial arts are not about conscious thought. The arts are about instinct." There was a blur of movement, and suddenly Akane found herself nose to... beak... with the tengu. She "eeped" and staggered back a step.

"They are about speed," Masakazu continued, the mischievous glint back in his eyes. "Something which you are seriously lacking, my dear. But I intend to fix that. Along with your agility and dexterity. You have strength, will, and endurance, but little else."

"Hey!"

"Oh, and we must also work on focus and concentration. Apparently I could work on that a little myself. You really threw me for one with that last comment of yours. So," Masakazu's eyes glittered with barely suppressed laughter, "your fiance fell into the Spring of Drowned Girl, did he? Poor sap. That must have made for an interesting relationship."

Akane blinked. "How do you know about..."

"There aren't very many secrets that can be kept from me, you'll find. It's a small talent I possess. But don't worry, I spread gossip only when its absolutely necessary." The tengu winked conspiratorially at her. "Now, shall we begin your training? Or do you want some time to recover from my little sneak attack?"

Akane winced as she was reminded of the pain throbbing through her body from the beating she'd taken. "That wasn't fair," she snarled.

"Fair? Who said anything about fair?" The tengu narrowed its black eyes. "Don't expect formal challenges in this level of existence, dear. The creatures you'll be facing will use all sorts of deception and unethical tactics to defeat you. Anything goes. That _is_ your school of training, is it not?"

Akane's lips thinned into a frown as she realized that she was whining like a spoiled child, and she nodded. She _should_ be ready for anything. And, much as she hated to admit it, she wasn't. As she was right now, she had no chance of winning against the inhabitants of the Kami plane.

"Let's start the training now," she said, then blinked in surprise. The tengu had disappeared. "Hey, where'd you go? I thought we were --"

She suddenly felt herself grabbed from behind and thrown roughly into the air. She landed on her back, hitting the floor with a _thud_, the air whooshing out of her lungs, and found herself staring up into the laughing eyes of the tengu.

"First lesson. _Always_ be on your guard. Don't think that just because you're having a friendly chat with someone, the denizens of the seven levels of hell will wait until you're finished to attack at your convenience."

Akane wheezed a sigh and glared daggers at her new sensei as she struggled to sit up. It looked like it was going to be a _long_ seven years.

--------------------

The Nekohanten was dark. Shampoo sighed in relief and exhaustion. She really didn't want to deal with Mousse at the moment. The swift journey back to Japan had taken a lot out of her, mostly because she was still feeling the effects from her battle with the demon guardians, her encounter with the Ancient One, and the draining task of casting the blood spell. Still, as great-grandmother had told her, even this would work to her advantage in the end.

Once inside, Shampoo yawned mightily. "Aiya," she said softly, so as not to wake Mousse, wherever he was, "I go to bed now, great-grandmother."

Cologne nodded. "That's a good idea, child. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day, and you'll need your rest."

Shampoo went into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. Even in the cool spring night, she felt hot and sweaty from the journey. She would have loved to splash some cold water on her face, but with her curse, it was more trouble than it was worth, so she rinsed most of the grime from her face with an uncomfortably warm wet washcloth. She then removed the makeshift bandage from around her arm and carefully cleaned the wound left by the Ancient One's claw where it had lanced clean through so that she could pay the blood price. The wound was healing nicely, thanks to Cologne's ministrations, and when it was sufficiently clean, she anointed it with herbs and replaced the bandage with some clean white gauze. Then she headed to her room and to the promise of sleep that beckoned her.

It wasn't until she closed the door behind her that she realized Mousse was sitting on her bed.

"You're home early," he said. "We weren't expecting you for another two days."

She stared in surprise that swiftly turned to anger. "Mousse! What you doing in Shampoo's room? You leave now! Only husband allowed on Shampoo's bed." She was appalled at his audacity. Even Mousse, who constantly threw himself at her, had never presumed to sit on her bed uninvited.

"Very well. I'll stand," said Mousse softly, and he stood. It was only then that Shampoo realized that Mousse's attitude was profoundly different than what she was used to. First of all, he didn't appear to be overjoyed to see her, the way he usually did, and wasn't babbling and crying about his "darling Shampoo." As a matter of fact, he looked almost... angry. His face was creased in a frown, and his arms were crossed severely over his chest.

"But," he continued, his voice firm, "I'm not going to leave until you tell me why you cast a blood spell on Ranma and Akane."

Shampoo paled and staggered back a step. How did he know? And if he knew, that might mean that Ranma knew as well!

Shampoo's panicked mind raced to the words Great-grandmother had rehearsed with her on their journey from China. "There is a chance," Cologne said, "that Ranma and the others might figure out what happened before we get back. If this is the case, remember, _our plans do not change in the least._ Just stay with the story, and all will be well." Shampoo trusted in their plan. It _had_ to work. It _would_ work, as long as she remembered to do her part well.

Her eyes filled with tears, and she sank to the floor, hoping that her initial shocked reaction would blend with her performance. "Oh, Mousse!" she said, her voice shaking. "Tell me, what happen to Ranma?"

Mousse was taken aback, and he seemed almost relieved. "You... you mean, you really don't know?"

"Please, Mousse! Tell Shampoo what happen!" She let a few of the tears slide down her cheeks. It was easier than she thought it would be, pretending this apprehensive anguish. But that could be due to the actual sick feeling she had inside. _Aiya_, she thought, the tears coming stronger and more sincerely, _This lie feels so dirty. I wish I didn't have to do this, Ranma. But there was no other way._

Shampoo's tears were having the desired effect on Mousse. His angry countenance shattered into concern, and he sank down to his knees beside her. "D-don't cry, Shampoo," he said, reaching out a tentative, comforting hand. "I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything!" And he did, starting with Ranma's visit to the Nekohanten, and ending with what he had overheard at Kintaro-sensei's clinic.

All through his story, a part of Shampoo's mind listened analytically, finding out exactly what Ranma and the others did and did not know. The other part focused on reacting properly anguished, yet not _completely_ surprised, at the news of Akane's disappearance, and the spell voices within Ranma. She was a little worried when she heard that Ranma had managed to shatter the spell with one of his ki blasts. Still, the spell had formed itself back together, and it seemed to have done its job quite adequately, so she pushed those nagging doubts to the back of her mind.

When Mousse was through telling his story, Shampoo shuddered with sobs. "Oh, Mousse. It all my fault." The truth. That didn't feel so bad...

Mousse looked at Shampoo, distraught. "How? Why is it your fault? What happened in China, Shampoo?"

Shampoo shuddered. A real shudder this time. And told the lie.

--------------------

End of Part Four


	6. Interlude

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

------------------------

Hearts of Ice

Part 5: Interlude

by Krista Perry

------------------------

Akane sat quietly, holding perfectly still as Yuki-onna passed her slim white hands a few centimeters over the surface Akane's skin. After a few moments, her hands paused over a spot on Akane's back, just between her shoulder blades.

"Hmm," the Snow Woman said softly. "This looks like a good place to start today. The spell will be easiest to untangle here." She began twisting her fingers, as if pulling at invisible threads.

Akane felt the now-familiar tingle of magic between her shoulder blades as Yuki-onna carefully removed wisp after wisp of dragon blood from her ki. This had become a daily ritual. For the past two months, ever since she had first come to the Kami plane, Yuki-onna had spent at least an hour a day trying to remove the blood spell from Akane, but the spell was stubborn and strong and fought against Yuki-onna's attempts to break it's hold on her. Every time a strand of dragon blood was removed from Akane's ki, the spell would simply shift and fill in the gap.

Akane could tell that it was exhausting work for the Snow Woman, and was finally beginning to understand why it would take about seven years to lift the spell completely. She shook her head slightly in bafflement, wondering once again why her mysterious hostess was helping her. Yuki-onna had taken her -- a total stranger, and a mere mortal at that -- into her household and had treated her like a daughter. Which was surprising, since the Yuki-onna that Akane was familiar with from legend was portrayed as a cold, cruel woman; an evil spirit who enjoyed freezing men to death with her icy touch.

"So, Akane," said the Snow Woman as she continued to pull at the blood spell, "it appears that the bruises from your last match with Masakazu are healing nicely. You seem to have fewer than usual. Can I take that as a sign of your improvement?"

"Yes," said Akane, smiling. Then she winced and raised a hand to a bruise on her cheek; a bruise that matched the dozens of others all over her body. The swelling had gone down, but it still hurt to touch it. In spite of the pain, she was glad. For once in her life, she had a sensei who didn't treat her like a china doll, as if she would shatter with the slightest touch. With Masakazu's help, she had slowly, but steadily improved her martial arts skills. She still wasn't nearly as fast or agile as Ranma, but she was finally getting enough speed to block some of her sensei's attacks. And, more importantly, she was learning to trust her instincts. It was a necessity, really. She always had to be on her guard, since she never knew when Masakazu was going to launch another attack, or "training session," as he called it.

At first she had been angry at how rough he was on her, but she had quickly learned that the tengu had actually gone easy on her the first time he attacked. Since then, she had seen him perform feats that made Cologne and Happosai look like first-year students, substantiating his claim that his people had invented the martial arts. Also, not only was Masakazu the most incredible martial artist she'd ever seen, the tengu was also a very patient sensei. This was good, because more often than not, her volatile temper got the better of her, especially when he would use Ranma's voice to mock her during their battles. She _hated_ it when he did that. And yet... it was also nice in a strange way, because deep down she liked hearing Ranma's voice. Even if the voice said things to make her mad. Even if it wasn't really Ranma at all.\

It was so strange. Sometimes she felt as if this alien place were home, as if she'd been here forever. Other times she was so homesick, it hurt.

She tried not to think of Ranma, but it was no use. He was always in her thoughts at some level. She missed him terribly but knew that allowing her thoughts to dwell on him would just make her miserable. _I wonder what he's doing right now?_ she thought.

Akane sighed. Yuki-onna had certainly scolded her often enough about wasting her time thinking about a man who had brought so much misery into her life and who, in all likelihood, wouldn't even be around by the time she could finally return home. She almost regretted telling the Snow Woman about her convoluted history with Ranma and his "other fiancees." Yuki-onna seemed to take each of Ranma's affronts personally, whether they were intentional or, as was most often the case, circumstantial. It was so ironic. Finally, here was a woman who completely understood the frustration and fury Akane so often felt towards Ranma. But now Akane didn't want to feel that way anymore.

She tried to convince herself otherwise. Heck, it should have been easy; she'd certainly had plenty of practice telling herself what an insensitive pervert Ranma was, and how there was no way in the world she could ever love him. But ever since she had been torn so forcefully out of the mortal plane, she had become more honest with herself, and her soul refused to let her live with such a blatant lie.

_You know_, she thought to herself glumly, _you really have the _worst_ timing. You couldn't have had this little journey of self-discovery a little bit earlier? Like when it might actually have been useful?_

Yuki-onna frowned, her smooth white face creasing slightly as she concentrated on removing the dragon blood from Akane's ki. She paused, surprised, as the ki abruptly began to darken in color with the girl's mood.

_Blast. She's thinking about her fiance again._ Yuki-onna's frost-blue eyes narrowed angrily. _After all that idiotic boy has put her through, she still pines for him. Akane, you foolish girl, why can't you see how much stronger you would be without this useless infatuation weighing you down?_ The Snow Woman began to lose her concentration because of her anger, and the dragon blood began slipping through her fingers, resisting her attempts to remove it. She sighed with frustration and tried to regain focus, but thoughts of the mortal boy Ranma and his cruel treatment of Akane prevented her from --

A flash of red caught her eye.

_What--?_ Yuki-onna squinted at Akane's ki. For a split second, she had seen something in the blood spell, something she hadn't noticed before. What had she been thinking about? She knew that an individual's thoughts and emotions could often effect how a person perceived the nuances of someone else's ki, which was why perfect concentration was normally required, but this time....

Ranma. She'd been thinking about Akane's horrible fiance.

Yuki-onna focused once again on the blood spell in Akane's ki, this time keeping Ranma firmly in mind. There! There it was again, a flash of red; a tiny, almost unnoticeable wisp of dragon blood that responded to her thoughts of Ranma. It was woven deep inside the spell, too deep for her to reach for quite some time. Still, she concentrated on it...

...and gasped.

Akane turned quickly. "What's wrong? Are you alright?" she asked, looking with concern at the shocked expression on the Snow Woman's face.

Yuki-onna relaxed and smiled. "Oh, it's nothing, dear. I'm just a little tired, that's all. This spell requires so much of my energies to untangle...." She trailed off as she noticed Akane stiffen suddenly, her ki changing color once again, flaring bright blue.

"Akane?" she asked, puzzled. "What--"

Without warning, Akane leaped straight up into the air a good five meters from her sitting position, just barely missing the blur of burnt umber that passed through the space she once occupied. Yuki-onna gasped as the girl's ki was torn from her fingers.

Akane flipped at the peak of her arc, coming down to land lightly on her feet. As soon as she touched the floor, she dropped, bringing her hands up to block a near invisible blow from her sensei. Rolling, she sprang to her feet, her body twisting and turning as she swiftly parried each blow the tengu delivered.

"Well, Akane" said Masakazu with Ranma's voice, "Looks like you're more masculine than ever, you uncute tomboy. I don't know how you ever expect to catch a husband."

Akane growled. "Why you...!" And lost her focus. In one smooth move, Masakazu penetrated her defenses and landed a kick that sent Akane flying into the wall, and into unconsciousness.

-------------------

"Ow!" Akane rubbed a swelling lump at the back of her head, and hissed in pain as Yuki-onna gently cleaned a nasty scrape on her shoulder that she had received upon impact with the wall. If it were a normal wall, it probably wouldn't have done much damage, but in Yuki-onna's household, some of the walls were natural ice formations, complete with jagged crystalline edges. Akane had the misfortune of colliding with such a wall.

The Snow Woman touched the skin just outside the scrape with a fingertip and numbed the wound with an icy touch. Akane shivered, goose bumps erupting up and down her arms. "Oooh, that's _cold,_" she complained.

Yuki-onna leaned back and cocked a delicate white eyebrow at her. "Which would you rather have, Akane, the pain or a mild chill?" she asked calmly.

"At the moment I'd prefer neither," Akane snapped irritably, glaring at Masakazu, who stood serenely at her side. "No more pain, no more cold. As a matter of fact, I sure could use a nice hot day at the beach right about now. Don't you ever get tired of all this ice and snow?"

"Not really." Yuki-onna smiled pleasantly and tossed her mane of long white hair.

"Now now, Akane," Masakazu soothed. "You're just being a sore loser."

"Emphasis on the word 'sore,'" Akane growled.

"I wouldn't have breached your defenses if you had been able to control your temper," the tengu chided. "You lose focus, you lose the battle. Still, I must commend you on avoiding my initial attack. Your leap was quite impressive. You do realize, I hope, that you have come a long way since we began your training a mere two months ago."

Akane's temper calmed at the praise, and her expression lit with a smile. "Really? You think so?"

"Of course. But then, what else do you expect with me as your sensei? No ordinary mortal could teach you the things I've taught you."

"Hmph. It's a good thing I'm not relying on you to teach me humility," Akane responded wryly.

Yuki-onna chuckled. "I, too, am impressed, Akane. This is the first time in a week or so that I've seen you two spar, and just in that short amount of time, you have improved drastically. You'll be ready to defend my household in no time."

Akane turned to the Snow Woman, her expression serious, and a little nervous. "Um, now that you bring that up, I've been meaning to ask... I've been here for two months now, and the only attacks I've seen have come from Masakazu-sensei. You keep saying that I need to defend your household and that you need a bodyguard, but so far I haven't seen anything or anyone come around that you might need defending from." Akane swallowed and looked down. "Are... are you sure you need me?"

The Snow Woman smiled gently. "Akane, the reason no one has been able to invade my home is because I am using a substantial portion of my magic to keep a continuous barrier between my domain and the rest of the Kami plane. It is a great drain on my energies."

Akane blinked. "Oh... I had no idea," she said, flushing with embarrassment. "No wonder you look so tired after trying to untangle the blood spell every day. I... I'm sorry to be so much trouble."

"It's no trouble at all," Yuki-onna said firmly. "It's part of our deal. You serve as my body guard, and I free you from the blood spell. Once you are fully capable of defending my household, I will be able to drop the magic barrier and will once again have my full powers at my disposal."

Akane's eyes widened. "Your full powers? Does that mean..."

"That means," Masakazu interrupted, "that the sooner you are able to defend the household, the sooner Yuki-onna will have access to the power necessary to free you from the influence of this blood spell your under."

"I've been doing what little I could under the circumstances," the Snow Woman added. "But once you take your place as my bodyguard, and I have full access to my magic, it will speed up the process substantially. You should know," she continued, seeing the hope blossom on Akane's face, "that I took this into account when I gave you the time estimate. I still believe it will take about seven years to break the spell, give or take a few months, depending on how quickly you learn the skills necessary to defeat intruders."

Akane's face fell. "Oh," she said softly. For a brief, wonderful moment, she thought that she might get home sooner.

_Ranma...._

The tears, which she had avoided for weeks, threatened once again, and she turned away from the tengu and the Snow Woman, not wanting them to see her cry. "Excuse me," she said swallowing. "I... I think I'll go to my room now. I need to get cleaned up for dinner." She walked quickly away.

The Snow Woman and the tengu watched her leave.

**You haven't told her, have you.** Yuki-onna started as Masakazu's mental voice penetrated her head.

"You don't have to do that," she said crossly. "She's gone, she can't hear us. And to answer your question, no. I haven't told her. I don't intend to. And you will not tell her either."

Masakazu sighed. "Yuki-chan, I know what you are thinking. And it's wrong. Don't you think it would be better for Akane if you gave her some hope? If you let her know that she might still regain everything she's lost?"

Yuki-onna turned on the tengu, her eyes blazing. "And what would you know about what's best for her? Do you know anything about this boy that she _thinks_ she loves? Do you know what kind of life is in store for her if she goes back to the mortal plane and he's still there, waiting to torment her as usual?"

Masakazu blinked at her, his black eyes inhumanly calm. "I know more than you might guess, Yuki-chan. I cannot presume to tell you what to do in your own domain, but I ask you to reconsider the course of action you are taking. Remember, your experience is not the prototype for Akane's life, or any mortal life for that matter."

Yuki-onna stared at the tengu, cold fury playing across her features. Finally she spoke. "I must see to the servants," she said quietly, "and make sure they preparing dinner correctly."

The tengu met her gaze levelly. "I understand," he said simply. And in a blur of movement, he was gone, leaving the Snow Woman staring at empty space.

--------------------

The Snow Woman stood before her mirror. Masakazu didn't understand. She had to protect Akane; protect her from both her brutish, arrogant, womanizing fiance, and her own naive ignorance. But that was not why she was here, standing before her mirror. No, she simply needed to confirm the discovery she made earlier that evening while trying to untangle the blood spell from Akane's ki.

Leaning forward, she breathed on the mirror. It frosted over, then swirled with magic. "Show me the boy," she whispered.

The image cleared to show Ranma pacing back and forth in a comfortable living room, frustration evident on his face. Occasionally he would drop to the floor to do a few push-ups, or just do a few flips to break the monotony.

Sitting curled in a chair, watching him pace back and forth, was an attractive girl with short, light brown hair. In her hands, she held a book, apparently forgotten as she seemed completely absorbed in watching the boy. Frustration was evident on her face as well. Yuki-onna watched in amusement as the girl's annoyance level rose to the bursting point.

Finally it came. "Ranma!" she yelled, causing the boy to startle and turn to her. "Will you please be so kind as to HOLD STILL! You're DRIVING ME CRAZY!" The girl seemed to calm as she looked at the dumbfounded expression on the boy's face. "If you _must_ fidget uncontrollably," she continued in a softer tone, "please. Do it outside."

Ranma looked chagrined. "Sorry, Nabiki. I didn't realize... I've got a lot on my mind right now."

"I understand, Ranma. But stomping around the house isn't going to get Cologne and Shampoo here any faster. They're not due back from China for another two days."

Ranma's gaze hardened suddenly. "Lucky for them," he said. "When I get my hands on them, I'm gonna make them sorry they ever messed with Akane."

"Yes, of course," Nabiki replied. She'd heard this for the past two days solid, and much as she agreed with the sentiment, it was getting a little monotonous. "Just make sure you get them to reverse the spell _before_ you kill them, Ranma," she said coolly. "And if I were you," she continued, "I'd get some sleep. You may be bouncing off the walls right now, but it doesn't take a doctor to see that if you stop moving for a second, you'll collapse from exhaustion. I don't know how you expect to defeat Cologne in such a state."

Ranma looked at Nabiki, and his shoulders sagged, as if realizing for the first time just how tired he really was. "You're right, Nabiki," he said. "I'll try and get some rest." He turned and walked out the door.

Nabiki looked at his retreating form in amazement. He agreed? And he was acting on her advice? He _must_ be tired!

Yuki-onna listened to the entire exchange with interest. The fluctuating time dilation that occurred between planes was always a bit confusing, but it seemed that only a day or so had passed in the mortal plane from the time the blood spell had first been cast. The poor mortals were still thinking they could break the spell.

The Snow Woman frowned. If Akane knew about the time dilation.... If she knew that once the spell was broken, she could return to the mortal plane with only a few months having passed as opposed to the seven years she had spent in the Kami realm....

She would leave for certain. She would leave and return to live under the abusive, unfaithful dominion of the man whose image appeared in her mirror.

Yuki-onna clenched one slender white hand into a fist.

She could not let that happen.

She watched with an icy expression as Ranma went outside the house. Her expression faltered to one of amazement as he leapt to the roof in a single graceful leap. Akane was right. He was a formidable martial artist.

Ranma laid down on the roof tile, his hands behind his head, and gazed at the stars, his face creased with a mixture of frustration and sadness.

"Closer," the Snow Woman whispered.

The image swirled and changed. Now she was close enough to see his ki. Sure enough, the blood spell permeated his ki as well. Idly, she wondered what it had done to him, then dismissed the thought as unimportant.

She concentrated on his ki, her mind focusing on Akane...

There it was. A tiny, almost microscopic wisp of dragon blood, identical to the one in Akane's ki. One end of the wisp was firmly rooted in the spell, and the other end... simply vanished, seemingly connected to nothing at all. Which was far from the truth.

"Damn it all, they're linked," growled the Snow Woman. "I was afraid of this." No wonder Akane couldn't seem to get over her fiance. As long as there was a connection between the two halves of the blood spell, the very thing that had separated her from Ranma simultaneously kept her in almost continuous contact with him.

She had to break the link somehow. But the only way to break the link was to remove the strand of dragon blood that served as the connection between the mortal and the Kami plane, and that particular strand was woven deep into the spell. She had neither the time nor the desire to remove the spell cast over Ranma.

The Snow Woman felt a wicked smile crawl across her face. "Then again," she whispered. "There's more than one way to break a spell's power over someone. And this way, I'll be getting two birds with one stone."

Examining Ranma's ki, she knew it would be a matter of minutes before he fell asleep. The boy was exhausted. She waited patiently.

Ranma stared into the night sky, his eyelids getting heavier by the moment. Some part of his instinct warned him that he needed to stay awake; that he needed to fight the exhaustion that permeated his body, but he couldn't figure out why. And he was so _tired_. He'd gone almost fifty-six hours without sleep, unable to think about anything except getting Akane back from wherever she'd been taken. But Nabiki was right. He _had_ to get some sleep, otherwise, he would be too worn out to face Cologne and Shampoo and force them to undo the spell when they returned from China.

His eyes glistened wetly as he wondered for the millionth time that day what Akane was doing right now. He wondered if she was scared, or if she was angry at him for not being able to save her. He knew she was alive. The spell-voices that had become a constant murmur in the back of his mind insisted that she was alive. But was she safe? Was she hurt? Was she alone or with other people?

He sighed heavily as sleep slowly overtook him. "Please be okay, Akane," he whispered. "I promise I'll find you." Unwilling to resist his weariness further, his eyes drifted closed in sleep.

Yuki-onna smiled grimly and pressed her hands against the mirror. Summoning every single scrap of magical energy she could spare, she pushed. The mirror gave under her hands, liquefying, and she stepped through.

She could tell immediately that it was spring. The cool breeze that brushed her white skin spoke of warmer things to come.

"Definitely not my season," she muttered. It would be a little more difficult to exert her power, but not much. She looked dispassionately at the sleeping boy at her feet. It had been a while since she had done anything like this. Then again, it had been a while since anyone had given her so much of a reason.

She knelt down next to the boy. He looked peaceful in sleep, almost innocent. But appearances could be deceiving. Her eyes flashed coldly as she thought of the pain this boy had caused Akane. With a gentleness that belied her intent, she lifted a deathly pale hand and brushed his dark hair from his forehead.

Yes, he was beautiful, this one. Even more so in person than when viewed through the mirror. She could almost understand why Akane was so taken with him.

The Snow Woman leaned over the boy, her long shimmering white hair falling in loose waves around her face, until her lips were almost touching Ranma's. She closed her eyes and parted her lips slightly.

Then, she breathed.

Frost covered Ranma's face. The frost slowly spread out to cover his hair, his neck and shoulders, traveling down his arms and chest and finally his legs until his whole body was covered with a perfect layer of white crystalline frost.

Ranma began to shiver in his sleep. The Snow Woman touched him on the forehead, and his trembling ceased. "Can't have you waking up, dear," she said softly. With his martial arts skills, he could escape her easily.

Confident that her sleep spell was firmly wrapped around the boy's mind, she placed her white fingers on his chest and let the cold seep out of her, willing it into Ranma's body; slowly, carefully freezing the blood that coursed through his veins.

Minutes passed, and Ranma lay motionless as the Snow Woman slowly froze him to death. His skin took on a deathly bluish pallor. Yuki-onna shuddered with sadistic pleasure as she felt the boy's life seep away beneath her icy fingers. It wouldn't be long now.

"A... Ak-kane...."

The Snow Woman looked up, startled at the barely audible whisper. The boy had spoken. But that was impossible. He was dying under her hands at that very moment. She could feel his heart slowing, unable to resist the icy cold that penetrated it. She could see his ki flickering weakly. The blood spell that bound him, however, clung tenaciously even as his life slipped away, unwilling to release it's hold until the very last spark of the boy's life force was extinguished.

She looked at his face. His skin was blue, and still covered in frost.

Her eyes widened as she saw the tears.

Warm tears leaked from the boy's closed eyelids, sliding down either side of his face, melting the frost in its wake. And the frozen lips were once again trying to form words.

"A-kane... I l-love y..."

No. Yuki-onna's hands slid off Ranma's chest, and she stared at him in shock. He didn't... He couldn't.... It wasn't _possible_....

She felt a familiar presence behind her.

"Masakazu-san," she whispered.

"Yuki-chan." The tengu made no move towards her. "Will you be the one to reverse what you've done to this boy, or must I intervene? I need not remind you that we are no longer in your domain."

"I...." Yuki-onna swallowed and looked at the boy; at the tear tracks running down his face even in near death. His whispered words echoed in her mind.

"I... will remove my spell from him," she whispered in defeat, knowing that even if she did not, Masakazu would. She placed her hands on Ranma's chest once again, this time drawing the bitter coldness back inside herself, allowing his blood to thaw and his heart to beat freely once again.

When she finished, she turned and stood to face the tengu. The tengu stepped past her and knelt over Ranma, pushing a few Shiatsu points to make sure the boy was fully restored. Then he turned back to the Snow Woman. His black eyes glittered fiercely, and his ruddy feathers gleamed in the starlight.

"You nearly made a grave mistake, Yuki-onna." Yuki-onna. Not Yuki-chan. He was angry. Masakazu rarely got angry. "Trying to take a life that was not yours to take, completely outside your domain of jurisdiction. Your misplaced rage over a slight you suffered centuries ago has made you hateful. Are you sure what you have to offer Akane is better than what this boy offers? You heard the words from his own mouth even as you tried to take his life."

The Snow Woman struggled within herself, then clenched her teeth. She looked up and met the tengu's gaze, her eyes heavy with resignation. "Perhaps... perhaps I was wrong about him. He does seem to... love her." She said it as if she still found it hard to believe.

The tengu's hard black gaze softened slightly, and he nodded. "So much so that his soul's dying desire was to express that love," he said. "What are you going to tell Akane?"

Yuki-onna paused to consider thoughtfully. "Nothing," she said finally.

"Nothing?" Masakazu's eyes narrowed.

Yuki-onna sighed heavily. "We cannot know for sure how the time dilation will flux between now and the time I can break the spell. I will not interfere with her... relationship with this boy," she said reluctantly, gesturing to Ranma's sleeping form with a slender hand. "But I will also not raise hopes that she will be returning to the same world that she left. If nothing else, seven years in the Kami plane will change _her_. Even if nothing changes here, she may find herself a stranger among friends when she returns. Better to prepare her for the worst and allow her to be pleasantly surprised, rather than raise hopes that are dashed by events beyond her control."

The tengu stood silent a moment, then nodded acceptance. "That is wise, Yuki-chan. I did not expect to find such wisdom mere moments after I found such foolishness." His black eyes smiled over his expressionless bird face. "Let us return now to where we belong."

--------------------

Ranma blinked groggily awake to find Nabiki kneeling over him, shaking him by his shoulders and shouting his name. When she saw that his eyes were finally open, she let go of him, allowing him to collapse unceremoniously against the roof tile with a painful _thud_.

"It's about time you woke up, Saotome," she said irritably as Ranma sat up rubbing the back of his head and scowling. "You sleep like the dead."

Ranma, still half asleep, didn't respond as his thoughts churned over the strange, disturbing dreams that had plagued his sleep. Normally, he didn't remember his dreams, except for certain reoccurring nightmares he had that involved either cats, or springs with bamboo poles sticking out of them. He remembered this one, though....

He dreamed that he had fallen asleep on the roof, but that he then awoke to see Akane standing over him. He was so glad to see her, so glad that she was alright, that he wanted jump up and take her in his arms, not even caring what might happen if someone saw him.

But he couldn't move. He was frozen in place, unable to even make a sound. It was then that he noticed how strange Akane looked. Her skin was white and bloodless, her eyes sparking with anger and contempt. The look on her face sent anguish stabbing into his heart. _Akane?_ he thought. _Wh-what..._

She bent over him then, and he swallowed nervously at how beautiful she looked in spite of the anger in her eyes. He wanted to open his mouth, to apologize, to say anything at all, but he was completely immobile. He expected her to pound him into the roof tile, or at least punt him into orbit. But instead, to his surprise, he heard her voice in his mind.

**This,** she said, **is for all the times you've hurt me, all the times you've disappointed me. This is for being a selfish, insensitive pervert. And this is for all the times you've chickened out and failed to express your true feelings for me.**

Ranma looked at Akane, stunned. The agony her words inflicted was sharper than any physical pain he'd ever experienced. _Wait, Akane!_ he thought desperately, struggling to move his unresponsive body in any way. _Please! I'm sorry, I always meant to tell you, but I...._

His thought was cut off abruptly when she kissed him lightly on the mouth, his mind freezing in shock. The whispery touch of her lips sent cold fire burning across the skin of his face, and he would have gasped in pain if he had been capable of moving. Instead, he lay helplessly as the burning ice spread from his face across his body, seeping through his skin. Then, she placed her white fingers on his chest and began to suck the life out of him.

_She's... killing me_, Ranma realized. All the feelings of panic had drained out of him, leaving only a deep sadness as the cold black fire slowly ate away at his awareness. _I've hurt her so bad, she hates me so much, that she's killing me. Oh, Akane, I'm so sorry, what have I done to you to make you like this? I wish I could tell you.._.

He _would_ tell her. He may not be able or willing to fight her, but he couldn't die without letting her know. He would focus all his strength and will into one last act. His mind fought, staving off the freezing death that was slowly overtaking him, and he forced his ice-encrusted lungs to expand....

"A... Ak-kane..."

It hurt. He felt as if his frozen insides were shattering with the effort. The cold black nothingness of death was quickly swallowing the last living pieces of him. He had to hurry, before it was too late...

"A-kane... I l-love y..."

Suddenly it was no longer Akane who knelt over him, but a strange woman with the same white skin, and with long white hair. She stared at him, her frost-blue eyes wide in shock.

_Where did Akane go?_ Ranma felt himself slipping away, the blackness almost complete. _I hope she heard me_, he thought.

And then he felt nothing.

Nothing until Nabiki shook him awake.

"Hey, Ranma, are you okay?" Nabiki's irritation had faded to concern as she looked at her sister's fiance. He seemed really out of it.

Ranma looked at her as if just noticing her for the first time. "Nabiki?" he asked, his eyes clearing a little. He looked around and saw that he was still on the roof, and that it was still dark. "Oh man," he groaned, holding his head. "I just had the _weirdest_ nightmare."

"You can tell me about it later," Nabiki responded, crawling over to the ladder she had propped against the side of the roof. "Right now, we've got some serious business to attend to."

Ranma shook his head, trying to push the lingering traces of the dream out of his brain. "What business?" he asked, confused.

Nabiki paused as she descended the ladder and gave Ranma a level look. "I've had people watching the Nekohanten," she said. "I just got word a few minutes ago that Shampoo and Cologne have returned from China."

The news hit Ranma like lightning, and he was suddenly fully awake. Awake and angry. "They're back?!" Forget dreams, forget spell-voices. _This_ was something he could understand; something he could deal with. His battle aura blazed to life, and his blue eyes narrowed in anticipation. He leaped over Nabiki and landed in the yard. "I'm gone!" he yelled, springing to the wall that surrounded the house and jumping to a neighboring rooftop.

"Ranma, wait!" Nabiki called after him. "We're coming with you!" But it was too late. He was already out of earshot. "Idiot," she muttered, descending the ladder.

Ryoga was coming out the patio door as she reached the ground. "Well, did you wake him up?" he asked.

"He's awake, up, and gone," she said. "He didn't even wait for me to tell him that Ukyo wants to be there too. She was pretty upset to hear about what Shampoo did to Ranma."

Ryoga clenched his fists. "That fool!" he snarled. "How dare he leave without me? Ranma!!" And with a battle cry, Ryoga leaped over to the wall and to a neighboring rooftop.

"Ryoga, wait!" Nabiki called. "You're going the wrong...." But it was too late. He was gone. Nabiki moaned and rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Idiot!" she exclaimed. Then she sighed. She wanted her sister back, and she wanted to be there to make sure Cologne or Shampoo didn't try any underhanded tricks. "Well, I guess I'll call Ukyo and ask her to meet me there," she said. "It looks like its going to be a long night."

--------------------

End of Part Five


	7. Lies and Dreams

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 6: Lies and Dreams

by Krista Perry

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Cologne rarely slept. In a lifetime that extended over three centuries, she had trained her body to replenish itself in an amazingly short amount of time. She knew how to conserve and use her energy wisely and economically. Her powerful ki constantly recharged itself, sustaining both her ancient body and her abilities as a master of the martial arts. She kept herself alive and strong through sheer will alone, defying the laws of nature that insisted her body should have turned to dust long ago.

Which is why, after traveling on what should have been an exhausting trip from China to Japan, she was awake and alert. She listened carefully, extending her senses through her household. Shampoo and Mousse were finally in their separate rooms, sleeping restlessly after talking in to the early morning hours. She had eavesdropped with interest as Mousse had related to Shampoo the events of the past two days since the blood spell had been cast.

So, Son-in-law had figured it out. That was surprising, considering how oblivious the boy usually was to the workings of human nature, but it was not a completely unexpected turn of events. If they played it right, it could even work to their advantage. The trick would be getting Ranma calm enough to listen to reason...

As if on cue, her meditation was interrupted by the sound of the Nekohanten glass door shattering under the impact of a powerful fist. "HEY, OLD GHOUL!" Ranma's fury-filled voice shouted from the dining area below. "COME DOWN AND FACE ME!"

Cologne's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed. "Well well," she muttered under her breath. "I should have known Son-in-law wouldn't wait until a decent hour for this confrontation." She reached for her staff and swung herself up to her customary place while balancing the staff on its tip, then closed her eyes and spent a few moments focusing herself for the upcoming battle. Whether the battle would be physical or otherwise had yet to be determined, but it didn't matter. It would be tricky either way.

When she emerged from her room a moment later, she found Shampoo and Mousse standing in the hallway, looking apprehensively down the stairs where the pulsing light of Ranma's battle aura flickered menacingly under the restaurant door.

"Great-grandmother," Shampoo whispered, her eyes wide with worry, "how Ranma know we home already? We supposed to go to him tomorrow."

"Don't worry, Shampoo," said Mousse firmly. "I will not allow that vile Saotome to hurt you."

Shampoo glared at him. "Shampoo no need help from you, Mousse. Besides, husband no hurt Shampoo." She turned away from him then, so that he couldn't see the doubt and fear in her eyes. Ranma sounded so _angry_...

"YOU HEAR ME, OLD GHOUL? COME DOWN AND FACE ME, OR I'M COMING UP THERE AFTER YOU!!"

Cologne sighed. "Well, I would have preferred to break the news to Son-in-law under better circumstances, but I guess we have no choice. Come, Shampoo. You know what we must do."

Shampoo nodded, her heart beating in her throat, and followed Cologne down the stairs.

Mousse followed mutely, still smarting from Shampoo's rebuke, and wished he were wearing his arsenal-laden robes instead of just his black pajama bottoms. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger and watched nervously as Cologne opened the door to the Nekohanten dining area. _If you do anything to hurt Shampoo, Saotome_, he thought solemnly, _I swear I won't rest until you've been punished_.

Cologne entered the dining area and faced Ranma calmly. Shampoo and Mousse followed close behind.

Shampoo took one look at Ranma and felt all her hopes of persuading him to her side as a willing husband slowly disintegrate. His narrowed blue eyes, so handsome even in anger, met hers briefly when she entered the room, and the look of hurt betrayal on his face pierced her to the heart. In that brief moment when she met his cold gaze, he seemed to be saying _How could you do this to me, Shampoo? I thought you were my friend._ Shampoo brought her hands up to her mouth to choke back a sob. _Aiya! The plan isn't going to work. He hates me_. Tears began to spill down her cheeks.

But Ranma didn't see her tears. His attention was already focused on Cologne, his battle ki burning red-gold with fury, casting flickering shadows among the rows of stacked tables and chairs in the dark dining area. He stood tensed in a battle stance, his hands at the ready. Shampoo winced when she saw a thin trickle of blood dripping unheeded from his knuckles where the splintering glass of the shattered Nekohanten door had cut deep.

"All right, ghoul," Ranma said, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm gonna give you one chance to undo what you did to Akane and me. You'd better break this blood spell if you know what's good for you."

Cologne met his gaze unflinching. "I'm afraid I can't do that," she answered.

Ranma growled in frustration, and clenched his fists. "Aw man, I just knew you were gonna say that," he said. "Have it your way then. I challenge you, old ghoul. If I win, you bring Akane back from wherever you sent her. And you get these voices out of my head," he added as the spell-voices swelled up in his mind, insisting that he would never see Akane again. He glared at Cologne, and waited for her standard 'If I win, you marry Shampoo' reply.

_So_, Cologne thought. _Even though we've torn his life asunder, the boy still has honor enough to extend a formal challenge rather than attack blindly._ The old crone chuckled inwardly, yet kept her expression neutral. If they engaged in physical combat, she knew Ranma would give her a run for her money, and she would run the risk of losing everything that she and Shampoo had worked so hard for. She had learned more than once that it was unwise to underestimate Ranma's physical prowess and sheer stubborn refusal to lose. But now... _This is going to be easier than I thought._

She gazed at Ranma levelly, her wrinkled face betraying no expression. "I refuse the challenge," she said.

"Fine, let's get to it," Ranma said, dropping into an attack crouch. "There's no way I'm gonna let you..." Suddenly Cologne's response penetrated his brain, and he blinked, stunned. "What did you say?"

"I said I refuse the challenge. I will not fight you."

"But you... I..." Ranma stuttered, his battle aura flickering out and plunging the restaurant into darkness as his anger faltered into flustered confusion. She couldn't refuse his challenge, could she? To refuse a challenge... It just wasn't _done!_ He _had_ to fight Cologne. Otherwise, how was he going to force her to bring Akane back?

"Ranma, I think we should sit down and talk for a moment. Shampoo and I have something to tell you."

Ranma blinked again. Talk? They wanted to talk? This wasn't the way it was supposed to go. He'd been psyching himself up for a battle royal for the past two days, and they wanted to _talk_? Something was not right here.

"There's nothing to talk about," he snapped, trying to regain his mental footing. "I know you cast a blood spell on me and Akane, and I'm not gonna rest until you break it."

"You are wrong, Ranma. We did not cast the blood spell."

Ranma laughed, short and harsh. "Yeah, right. You expect me to believe that?"

"Actually... no," Cologne said softly. She spoke slowly, annunciating each word carefully. "We _don't_ expect you to believe us. Because the purpose of the spell was for you to hate Shampoo. And if the spell is working like we think it is, you probably believe that Shampoo and I cast the spell to get rid of Akane. Isn't that right?"

Ranma stared at Cologne, just barely able to see her diminutive form in the pale light that shone through the windows from outside. "Well... yeah," he managed finally. "I mean, why else..." He trailed off uncertainly. Did she just say that the spell was supposed to make him hate Shampoo? If that was the case, it sure was working. But why on earth would they cast a spell like that? Unless... unless the old ghoul was telling the truth, and they _didn't_ cast the spell. But then who would...

Cologne smiled inwardly, sensing rather than seeing the confusion on Ranma's face in the darkness. _Time to appeal to Son-in-law's considerable ego_. "You are strong, Ranma," she said gravely. "You have it within you to fight off the effects of anger and hatred that the spell has placed in you, and listen calmly to our explanation."

Ranma was silent a moment. Shampoo stood frozen in the deep shadows and looked at his tense figure, framed by the shattered door and backlit from the street lamps outside. Her silent tears had ceased, mostly out of amazement as she watched how adeptly her great-grandmother handled Ranma.

"Okay," Ranma said finally. Reluctantly. "I'm listening."

"You already know that I took Shampoo to China for a training mission," Cologne said. "We went to a secret training area in the mountains that we Amazons use for its perilous landscapes and dangerous animal inhabitants to improve our survival skills. Only the most advanced warriors are able to train in these mountains. I knew that it would be risky, but I felt confident that Shampoo was up to the challenge. What I didn't realize, and what I regret discovering too late, was that those mountains are now inhabited by a very powerful, very evil dragon."

"A... dragon?" Ranma's voice lost some of its angry edge. Ranma had come across a dragon or two in his training, and had been lucky to come out of the encounters alive. "You went up against a dragon?"

"Actually, Shampoo went up against a dragon."

Ranma looked up to where Shampoo stood in the dark, the pale light from the street lamps outside outlining her features. "You fought a dragon, Shampoo?"

Shampoo blinked and shook herself mentally. It was time, and Cologne was waiting for her to tell her own story. Her own lie.

"Shampoo not have much choice," she said, her voice shaking. "Dragon kidnap me when I sleep. Dragon want to make Shampoo his bride. But I tell dragon I rather die than marry him. I tell him I already have good husband..."

Shampoo saw Ranma flinch at this, but she continued. She couldn't seem to steady her voice. "Dragon use his magic to find out about you. He say he make you hate me so that I no have husband. He say he do worse thing possible to you and make it... make it look like my fault..." Her tears were flowing again uncontrollably; her face was pale mask of grief.

Ranma stood numb with shock, trying to absorb her story. So the old ghoul _didn't_ cast the blood spell. And Shampoo was an innocent victim, just like he was. Looking at her, he could see the glistening tear tracks course down her cheeks in the darkness, and felt something unidentifiable tremble in his chest. He had lots of experience with getting blamed for something he had no control over. His brow creased in sympathy, and he unconsciously reached out his hand. "Shampoo..."

"He use own blood to cast spell," Shampoo continued. "I... I try to stop him but..." Her voice choked off, and she swallowed hard against the tears and the bile that rose in her throat with the lie. "P-please, Ranma. Don't h-hate Shampoo. I help you. I help you find Akane. I help you find a way to break spell."

Ranma hated to see Shampoo, or any girl, cry. It made him feel all panicky and helpless inside. "It's okay, Shampoo. Don't cry, please. I... I don't hate you."

Oddly enough, that only made Shampoo cry harder. Ranma waved his arms in helpless agitation. "Auggh! What did I say? I'm sorry, don't cry!"

"Oh Ranma!" Shampoo flung herself at Ranma, wrapping her arms around his torso and sobbing into his chest. "Shampoo so glad you no hate her."

"Uhhh." Ranma gulped loudly and glanced around quickly, half expecting to see Akane appear to mallet him into the floor. Then he remembered, and a wave of sadness swept over him. He carefully extricated himself from Shampoo's grip and looked into her face. "Did you mean that, Shampoo? Will you help me get Akane back?"

Shampoo nodded, blinking tears from her eyes.

"Ranma?" Cologne came over to him. At that moment, he realized that the old ghoul had called him by name; that she had been calling him by name since he first arrived. No infuriating "son-in-law" or condescending "sonny boy." Just Ranma. It was odd. She knew how much he hated it when she called him by those other "titles." Why had she stopped? She wasn't actually giving up her claim on him... was she? Did the old ghoul really feel that bad about what had happened?

"I too will do whatever I can to help you break the blood spell," she said. "You should know, Ranma, that when I arrived at the dragon's lair to rescue Shampoo, I managed to disrupt the blood spell while Shampoo distracted the beast. I believe the spell was originally meant to kill Akane. I was able to prevent that, however, through my interference. I only wish I had the time to do more, but it was impossible under the circumstances. The dragon wasn't too pleased with my meddling. We were lucky to escape with our lives."

Ranma's eyes widened in shock as he faced Cologne in the darkness. The spell was supposed to kill Akane? He didn't want to think about what he might have done had the spell succeeded. Probably fulfilled the dragon's expectations, no doubt. But Cologne... Cologne had actually _saved_ Akane. And was offering to help him find a way to break the spell to get her back.

"I..." Ranma didn't know what to say. He had come expecting a fight and instead had received an offer of help. So what if Cologne didn't know how to break the spell at the moment. If anyone could figure it out, she could. He bowed. "Arigato," he said, unable to think of anything else to say. Then, looking at the floor, he saw that he was standing on pieces of shattered glass. "Uhh... Sorry about your door," he said sheepishly.

Cologne chuckled. "It's no problem. This place has seen a lot worse."

Without warning, the lights flipped on, and the group squinted against the sudden brightness. They turned, surprised to see Mousse standing by the light switch. They had forgotten that he was there.

Mousse clenched his jaw tightly, fighting to hold off the despair that was settling in his heart. Although he initially had reservations, he had secretly hoped that Ranma would attack so that he could defend and protect Shampoo, showing her once and for all that he was the better man. Instead, he watched with sinking hopes as Ranma once again wound his cords of womanizing treachery around Shampoo's heart. And now, not even Akane was around to temper Saotome's hold on his beloved.

There was only one thing to do. "Ranma, I too will do whatever I can to help you find Akane," he said, peering intently through his glasses at his rival.

Ranma smiled. "Hey, thanks, Mousse," he said sincerely. "I really appreciate it."

"Oh Ranma!" Shampoo grabbed his injured hand and held it up to examine it. "You bleeding. I go get bandages."

Ranma looked at the cut he'd sustained while smashing the door, noticing it for the first time. "Aw man, how'd _that_ happen?"

Shampoo came back and began cleaning the cut. Ranma sat and allowed her to fuss over him, trying not to squirm as she applied some healing herbs to the wound.

Cologne watched and smiled.

Everything was going according to plan.

--------------------

Ukyo ran, sprinting with athletic grace from rooftop to rooftop, her long chestnut brown hair, tied with a white ribbon, flowing out behind her. To a casual observer she might have appeared to be a wind sprite or some other ethereal creature. A closer examination would have shattered that illusion. Most ethereal creatures don't have giant battle spatulas strapped to their backs.

She scowled, her face creasing with anger and worry. "Ranchan, you jackass," she muttered. "Why couldn't you have waited, instead of running off half-cocked to face Shampoo and Cologne? If they've gone so far as to cast this so-called blood spell on you, who knows what other tricks they've got up their sleeves?"

The thought made her increase her speed a few notches. She had to get there, before that Chinese bimbo and that old mummy did anything to Ranchan. Her mind was so focused on this thought that she didn't notice a figure in her peripheral vision, leaping over the rooftops, closing in on her with astonishing speed...

... until she collided with it full force in mid air.

"Aaaahhh!" Ukyo fell to the ground below, flipping just in time to land awkwardly on her feet. She lost her balance and sat hard on her rump on the sidewalk. "Ouch!" She rubbed the side of her face, feeling a small lump at her temple where something hard had impacted. "What..?!"

"Ungghh..."

Ukyo looked over to see a figure hunched over on the grass. She staggered to her feet and cautiously drew closer, pulling a few of her sharp mini-spatulas from her bandolier and holding them at the ready. "Who..?"

The figure looked up, holding a hand to his bleeding nose. "U... Ukyo?!"

Ukyo gasped. "Ryoga?! What are you doing here?"

"I'b on by way to the Dekohaden to fight Colode!" he snapped, pinching his nose to stop the blood flow. "Ad least I was udtil you rad idto be!"

"You jackass!" Ukyo responded, replacing her spatulas and grabbing Ryoga's arm to pull him to his feet. "You ran into _me_! And besides, if you were headed to the Nekohanten, you were going the wrong way! The Nekohanten," she said, pointing, "is _that_ way. Now come on! Ranchan's probably been there a few minutes already." She leaped to the rooftop again.

Ryoga scowled, probing his nose carefully to make sure the bleeding had stopped, then followed her on her gravity-defying run. "That fool Ranma!" he snarled. "How dare he leave to fight Cologne without me?"

"Less talk, more running," Ukyo snapped back. Just a little further...

She jumped from the rooftop to the ground, landing in front of the Nekohanten. Ryoga landed next to her a moment later. Together, they stared at the store front.

The door was shattered, and the lights were on. They listened carefully. The sounds of a desperate battle failed to reach their ears. It was eerily quiet. Ukyo and Ryoga looked at each other in baffled apprehension.

"Uhh, do you think we missed it?" Ryoga asked hesitantly.

Ukyo's expression hardened. If those two had done anything to Ranchan... "Only one way to find out," she said, and she stepped through the broken door.

Ranma sat at a table, looking at Shampoo with amazement as she wrapped his right hand in a white gauze bandage. "No kidding? The dragon sent _twelve_ demon guards after you? How'd you get away?"

"Great-grandmother, she know many warding spells that keep them back." That wasn't a complete lie. But then she'd been trying to get _to_ the dragon, not trying to get away.

Ranma frowned. "Aren't you worried that the dragon will come looking for you? I mean, since he seemed so determined to marry you and all..."

Shampoo giggled nervously. "Oh, no worry about that. Dragon not follow me all the way to Japan from China."

"Hmm." Ranma's mouth twitched in skepticism as he thought about all the things -- and people -- that had followed _him_ home from China.

"A-hem."

Ranma looked up at the sound of Ryoga clearing his throat to see the Lost Boy scowling at him and Ukyo staring at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. "Ucchan! Ryoga!" he exclaimed, his face lighting up in a pleased, but puzzled expression. "What are you doing here?"

Ukyo stared at him, dumbfounded. "Ranchan... I... we... came to help, but..."

"What the hell is going on here?" Ryoga demanded, glaring at Ranma. Trust him to foul up Akane's rescue. "What happened to the big battle that was supposed to take place?"

Just then, Cologne entered the dining area balanced on her staff and carrying two bowls of ramen. Ryoga turned on her angrily. "You! Have you agreed to bring back Akane?"

Cologne ignored him and set the bowls down in front of Ranma and Shampoo. Ranma looked at his bowl suspiciously for a moment, but then noticed Shampoo looking at him with a strange, sad expression on her face, and he felt guilty. Surely they wouldn't try anything like that after what had happened, especially after they'd offered to help him. Besides, it wasn't like she was Kodachi or anything. He smiled a little at Shampoo and began to devour the ramen.

Ryoga's temper simmered, and he was about to yell something along the lines of 'how dare you ignore me,' when Cologne turned suddenly and _whapped_ him over the head with her staff. "_I_ didn't send Akane anywhere in the first place," she said, as Ryoga clutched his head in pain. "But to answer your question, impertinent boy, yes. I have offered to help Ranma find a way to break the blood spell."

Ryoga blinked as the pain in his head receded, and looked back and forth between Ranma and Cologne. "You didn't..? You mean--"

Ranma slurped up the last of his ramen and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "She means that they didn't do it, Ryoga," he said. "It was some dragon in China that wanted to marry Shampoo. She wouldn't marry him because," Ranma swallowed, still uncomfortable with the idea, "because of me. So he cast the spell to make me hate her. But don't worry," he said, smiling. "If anyone can lift this spell, Cologne can."

"Oh my," said a new voice. "Isn't this a sight to warm the heart. And here I came expecting to see the place torn to pieces."

Everyone turned to see Nabiki standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest, looking at the group with a cool expression. She dropped her arms to her sides and stepped carefully through the broken glass. "So, looks like I missed the party. Ranma? Care to fill me in on what's going on? That is unless you're too influenced by whatever dubious concoctions these two witches have managed to shove down your throat."

Shampoo bristled in anger and stood to face Nabiki. "We no use anything like that, sneaky girl! We want to help Ranma!"

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "Is that so."

Ranma stood, flexing his hand in the bandage, and placing himself between the two girls. "Hey, Nabiki, it's okay. They explained everything to me. They weren't the ones who cast the spell, but they're going to help me find a way to break it."

"Hmm." Nabiki walked up to Ranma and peered clinically into his eyes, looking for any sign of the drugged blankness that usually accompanied some of his fiancees' attempts to chemically induce his cooperation. Aside from the tiny bloodshot lines that told of his lack of sleep the past few days, his eyes were remarkably clear.

She sighed and shook her head. She could feel Cologne's piercing eyes on her, but she ignored the old ghoul and focused her attention on Ranma. If the old woman tried anything against her, that in itself would make Ranma doubt the veracity of the story he'd been told. She smiled slightly, knowing Cologne could do nothing.

"Oh yes, that's right," she said, rolling her eyes in disgust. "I heard you mention this Chinese dragon who _supposedly_ cast this spell when I came in." She fixed Ranma with a look that would have made Einstein feel dumb. "You're not really going to fall for that, are you? You actually believe that some dragon all the way in China away just _happened_ to cast a spell that completely eliminated Shampoo's competition in the fiancée department?"

"Hey!" Ukyo fumed. "What am I, chopped liver?"

"It's not like that at all." Ranma glared at Nabiki angrily. "You don't know what Shampoo went through, Nabiki. Look at her! Look at the battle scars on her. You think she made that up? Look at her arm. The dragon pierced right through it with his claw when she was trying to escape. I don't think she did that to herself!"

Nabiki looked at Shampoo. She had to admit, the Amazon girl did look like she'd recently seen a nasty battle. Her body was covered with nasty cuts and bruises.

Still, Ranma may be able to accept such a story, but the whole thing was a little too convenient for her liking. She had a sense for these things, for feeling out people, and knowing what motivated them. And most of all, for sensing when someone was trying to pull a fast one. It was a very... profitable talent.

Mostly, though, she didn't like the well-disguised predatorial look Cologne was giving Ranma. The untrained observer would have missed the subtle expression on the old crone's face completely. But Nabiki had worn the expression herself too many times to be fooled.

_So, _that's_ your game,_ she thought, keeping her own expression neutral. _The manipulation, blackmail, and the phony cure bribes haven't worked, so you get rid of my little sister and then ingratiate yourself to Ranma with the pretense of selflessly helping him get her back. Very clever. I'm just afraid I can't allow you to get away with this._

She looked at Ranma, who was still full of righteous indignation. Just below the surface of his ire, though, she could see in him signs of exhaustion and despair. For a moment, she felt a twinge of pity for him. It was obvious that he was suffering; that Akane's disappearance was eating away at him. But then it almost served him right. She had always been slightly annoyed that the stupid jerk would never come out and admit that he loved her little sister. Still...

She sighed. Fine. He may be too soft-hearted and soft-headed to recognize the trap he was in at the moment, but she'd find a way to expose this scam soon enough.

"I'm sorry, Ranma," she said smoothly. "Perhaps I was jumping to conclusions."

"I'll say," snapped Ukyo, still steamed at Nabiki. "If Shampoo wanted to get rid of fiancees, she would have gotten rid of me too."

Nabiki gave the okonomiyaki cook a thin smile. "Well, I stand corrected," she said. As she turned back to Ranma, she noticed Cologne peering at her intently. She pretended not to notice.

Ranma slumped back into his seat, glad that everything was straightened out, sort of. The adrenaline and anger that had kept him going for the past few days was wearing off, and he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

Nabiki tugged on his sleeve. "Come on, Ranma. We'd better get you home so you can get some decent sleep."

Cologne surprised Nabiki by agreeing. "Quite right," she said. "I have a feeling you'll need all your strength for what we'll have to do to break this spell."

Ranma protested, but only half-heartedly. The only rest he'd had was his short nap on the roof, and that sleep had been so full of strange nightmares about Akane that he'd felt more drained than rested when he awoke.

"Hey," said Ukyo as Nabiki herded both Ranma and a baffled Ryoga out the door. "Wait, I'm coming with you." When Nabiki gave her a reproachful look, she smiled sheepishly. "I... I mean, if that's okay with you, Nabiki, since it's your house," she said. "I just don't want to get left out of the action again, and if I stay with you guys, I can be there to help out."

Nabiki's expression softened. Ukyo may be annoying with her constant claims that she was Ranma's fiancée, but she was a good person, and not even close to approaching Shampoo's level of annoyance and possessiveness. "It's alright. You can stay with us." She didn't miss the look of triumph that Ukyo cast at Shampoo. Shampoo stuck out her tongue, making a face back, but then her expression dissolved into a sulk as she watched them leave.

Nabiki was suddenly very glad she allowed Ukyo to stay.

--------------------

Ranma dreamed.

This time there were no dreams about deathly pale Akanes come to suck the life out of him, much to his relief. Instead, he found himself standing in the middle of a vast, snow-covered plain, stretching forever in all directions. The night sky above him was clear and sparkling with billions of cold bright stars.

Cold. It was bitter cold. Ranma found himself shivering, and he wrapped his arms around himself.

Then he tensed, his eyes widening in fear. Two familiar voices, each thick and black as tar, came whispering across the plain, softly at first, but increasing in intensity as they grew closer.

"No," he mouthed silently. "No, why can't you leave me alone?" He turned around in a circle, looking for a way to escape, but there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide on the flat expanse of snowy landscape. Then, the voices were upon him, swirling around him, tearing and biting at his skin like a cold wind. He clutched his head and moaned. "No!" he shouted, as the voices grew increasingly louder. "Go away, leave me alone! I won't let you stop me, I'll find her, you hear?!"

But the voices were relentless. They increased in volume and speed until his mind was full of an insane, screeching babble. He sank to his knees in the snow, clutching his head, his eyes clenched shut, squeezing out tears of anguish. "Stop it!" he screamed, to be heard over the voices raging in his head. "Stop it! I'm not going to give up! So just leave me alone! I don't care how loud you yell, I'm not going to listen! I'm not going to listen!!" He kept chanting that over and over...

...and then the voices stopped abruptly, as if a stereo cord had just been cut, leaving Ranma is sudden silence, his ears and head ringing with the echo.

Ranma knelt for a few minutes, his eyes firmly closed, and took deep breaths. Then, when he was sure the voices had really disappeared, he slowly, carefully opened his eyes. He was surprised to realize that the bitter edge of cold was gone. It was still cold, but not unpleasantly so. He staggered to his feet and turned around.

His eyes widened as he found himself staring into the face of... of...

"I wondered how long you were going to sit there." said the strange red creature, who looked for all the world like... like an overgrown, humanoid mutant sparrow.

"Gahh!" Ranma staggered back a step, startled. He was not expecting to hear words come out of such an inhuman... er, beak.

"Uhh... Wh-who... What are you?" he asked finally, as the strange bird-like creature stared at him with twinkling, mischievous black eyes.

"Funny," said Masakazu, "your fiancée said almost the exact same thing when she first saw me."

Ranma blinked. "Fiancée? You... You mean that you've seen Akane?!"

The tengu nodded. Ranma grabbed him by the shoulders. "Where? Where is she? Is she okay? You've got to take me to her!"

Masakazu reached up and gently removed Ranma's hands. "Akane is fine, for the moment," he said. "She is a strong girl. It's easy to see why you love her."

Ranma's jaw sagged.

How did he..? He never said...

_Had_ he?

Then he remembered his other dream. He _had_ said those three little words that had terrified him for so long. But... it was just a dream, right? And how did this thing know?

_Duh,_ he realized. This_ is a dream too. Of course something you dream about would know._

"I think you've got it wrong, Ranma. You are dreaming, yes, but you are also here."

"Huh?"

"We are on the outskirts of Yuki-onna's domain. Akane is here, staying with Yuki-onna. She is safe, but she cannot leave, and you cannot see her. For now."

Ranma eyes lit with excitement, his brain missing everything the tengu said after "Akane is here."

"She's here?!" he asked anxiously. "Where? Can you take me to her?"

The tengu looked at Ranma gravely. "Listen, boy," he said sharply, getting Ranma's attention. "We don't have much time here. Normally, I would not be allowed to interfere with a mortal life in such a way, but because the Snow Woman tried to take your life unfairly, I have... decided to take this brief moment to talk with you."

Ranma blinked, not understanding half of what the strange creature was talking about, but he nodded mutely, realizing the seriousness of the situation.

"You cannot see Akane now because you are merely a dream presence that I summoned, and that I alone can interact within the Kami realm, whereas Akane is a real, physical presence here. You would not be able to see her, nor would she be able to see you, even if you were standing right next to each other."

"Oh," said Ranma. A wave of bitter disappointment washed over him. To be so close, and yet fail..!

"Stop it," the tengu snapped, his black eyes sparking fiercely. "What are you trying to do, unleash the voices again? I've locked them away from your mind temporarily, but even as we speak, the blood spell is eating away at my barrier, and when it breaks through, you will have to be strong enough, and _positive_ enough to withstand their taunting. Otherwise, when Akane finally comes home, you won't even be sane enough to appreciate her. Do you understand me?"

Ranma gulped and nodded.

"Now listen carefully. You two are linked. You both love each other, in spite of your mutual ineptness at expressing your true feelings. That, combined with the ki blasts you released on the spell, which weakened it before it reached you, has created some interesting side effects not originally intended, not the least of which is a transdimensional link in the blood spell between you and Akane. This is good because, were it not for that link, Akane's memory of the mortal world would gradually fade, as well as would your memory of her. It is the nature of the Kami realm to affect mortal minds in such a manner.

"Even so, there is a danger. The link is weak. It was never meant to exist. If by some chance it should fail, _you must not forget Akane_. If you do, she will surely forget her home, and remain forever in the Kami realm. Do you understand? The best thing you can do for her now is remember her."

Ranma looked at the tengu, askance. "There's no way I'd forget Akane," he said. "How could I forget all those times that violent tomboy has pounded me into the pavement or sent me through the roof?" _Or those times when she smiles and looks so cute, or those times when she's done something really nice for me, or when she's scared me to half to death when something's happened to her, and I'm afraid that I won't be able to save her in time..._

_...in time..._

The tengu watched Ranma silently, his black eyes calm and unblinking.

Ranma slowly came out of his reverie, his fists clenching at his sides. He looked the tengu in the face. "I won't forget Akane," he said firmly.

"Good. Because you're not going to remember this dream."

"What?!" Ranma looked around at the snowy landscape and realized that it was fading away, as was the strange bird creature in front of him. "Wait," he said in frustration. "I _need_ to remember! Why would you go through all the trouble of telling me this only to make me forget?!"

"You'll be allowed to retain this conversation subconsciously," said the fading tengu, "but to allow you to have conscious access to this memory would break our already seriously bent rules."

"But... but I..." The landscape had almost completely melted away.

"Don't worry, Ranma." The tengu had disappeared, leaving only his voice behind. "You can do it. I wouldn't have made the effort to contact you if I didn't think you could succeed."

"Wait, please!" Ranma pleaded. He could feel himself rising to consciousness, waking up. He gritted his teeth, fighting to stay where he was, willing the creature to come back. "I have so many questions!"

"Goodbye Ranma." The voice faded to a slightly indignant, yet amused mutter... "Mutant sparrow indeed..." ...and was gone.

Ranma gasped awake, sitting straight up on his futon. His father in panda form snored loudly beside him and rolled over.

"Damn," he muttered, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. "What a weird dream." He thought about it and frowned. What was it about? Something about snow and... red feathers?

He shrugged and sighed. His body ached with exhaustion. Without preamble, he collapsed back onto his pillow, and in moments was snoring louder than the panda.

This time, he didn't dream.

--------------------

End of Part Six


	8. Power Play

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

------------------------

Hearts of Ice

Part 7: Power Play

by Krista Perry

------------------------

Nabiki padded quietly out of her room and walked down the hall. The house was dark and silent except for the familiar, comforting sound of Kasumi starting her early morning ritual of preparing breakfast in the kitchen downstairs. Nabiki shook her head, a half smile tugging at her lips. How oneechan managed to get up so early every single morning and stay so damn cheerful was a mystery to her.

She was not a morning person herself. Under normal circumstances, she would still be in bed cherishing every extra moment of unconscious bliss, curled in her downy-soft covers. For her to be up so early -- willingly at least -- was a rare thing indeed.

She headed downstairs, but then, on an impulse, she paused outside Akane's room. Reaching out, her hand hovered just over the door knob, her eyes lingering on the English letters that spelled out Akane's name on the little wooden duck that hung on the door.

A small, sad frown furrowed her brow, not quite reaching her mouth. She blinked, shook her head slightly, and opened the door.

Pale, pre-dawn light seeped through the closed drapes. Akane's homework was still spread open on the desk from where she'd left it to go down to dinner three days previous, just before the blood spell hit.

Nabiki went over to the desk, sat down in the chair, and opened the bottom drawer. Underneath stacks of papers and letters was a smooth metal tin, decorated with hand-painted flowers... or were they little animals? Nabiki grinned. Whatever they were, the bright splashes of color had been painted with tender care, if little skill.

She carefully pulled the lid off to reveal Akane's most personal treasures within. Lifting them out, she examined each item in the dim light contemplatively, almost reverently.

First Place award ribbons from martial arts tournaments. Mother's cook book, carefully folded open to the "How to boil water" page. Old photographs of the family, with Mother, holding baby Akane on her lap, her beautiful face smiling in two-dimensional black and white. And, on the very bottom of the tin, a picture of...

Nabiki's eyes widened as she looked at the photo; a photo which clearly showed Ranma kneeling on her sister's lap, his hands curled into cat paws, kissing a very surprised Akane.

A slow smirk crept onto Nabiki's face. _Well, well. After all the fuss she made after that incident, who would have thought she'd keep _this_?_ She chuckled softly. It was a shame that Ranma could only show his true affection for Akane when his pathological terror of cats sent his mind on a temporary vacation.

_Hmm. I wondered if Ranma ever figured out the _real_ reason Akane was so angry after his cat-kiss._

"Probably not," she muttered out loud as she placed the treasures back into the tin. She looked around the room, looking at everything from the spare school uniform hanging on the wall to the weights on the floor. The whole room had the feel of Akane, even though she was gone.

Nabiki sighed heavily. She had no illusions about her relationship with her little sister. They didn't always get along, and they had very little in common. But that didn't change the feelings and the bond of sisterhood between them. Out of the three siblings, Akane was more of a sister to her than Kasumi. Kasumi had taken the mantle of motherhood upon herself after Mother's death; she had made the sacrifice and had grown up fast so that the younger Tendo sisters could enjoy their youth, and all the typical sibling rivalry that went with it.

Sure, she and Akane argued frequently, and very rarely saw eye to eye on anything.

But that didn't matter.

It was time to get her little sister back.

Nabiki stood and left the room, closing the door softly behind her. She walked down the hall and peeked into the Saotomes' room. Ranma was sleeping deeply, curled on his side, a thin line of drool running from the corner of his open mouth to soak his pillow. The lines of exhaustion that had creased his face the previous night seemed to have smoothed slightly. Smiling in satisfaction, she quietly closed the door, and went downstairs.

Kasumi noticed her as she was on her way out the front door. "Why, Nabiki! You're certainly up bright and early this morning. Where are you off to?"

"I'll be back in a few minutes, oneechan." Nabiki smiled, her eyes glinting with secret devilment. "I've got a little errand to run."

--------------------

Ukyo wanted to scream.

She didn't, of course. Cute fiancees don't scream.

She groaned instead, pulling her knees up to her chin as she lay curled on her borrowed futon, staring up at the ceiling of the Tendo living room. Her long, thick hair spread out on her pillow behind her head in a silky chestnut halo. Her brow furrowed in frustration over bright green eyes that glimmered with conflicting emotions.

_Why do I do this to myself_? she thought.

The opportunity of a lifetime had just been dropped in her lap, thanks to Shampoo's disastrous trip to China. But she wasn't completely happy with the way this opportunity had come about. Even though Ranchan's turbulent roma... er, relationship... with Akane drove her crazy with frustration sometimes, she didn't wish any real harm to come to her rival.

In fact, she actually felt bad that Akane was gone. Strange though it was, she and Akane were almost... friends? But that wasn't the only reason. She could see how badly the whole situation was affecting the Tendo family. Kasumi's cheerful demeanor was tainted with strain and worry. Ukyo hadn't seen Tendo-san, but she knew that Kasumi was taking meals to his room, leading her to believe that the grief-torn man had withdrawn into himself. And Nabiki...

She didn't know what to think about Nabiki. Out of all those close to Akane, the middle Tendo daughter seemed the least affected by her disappearance, at least emotionally. Nabiki was as cool and distant and calculating as ever. And yet, last night at the Nekohanten...

Ukyo shook her head. The workings of Nabiki's mind were a mystery to her. She couldn't understand how someone could blackmail, extort and manipulate people the way she did, and still be able to live with herself...

_Oh, and who are you to judge?_ she thought to herself wryly. _It's not like you've never benefitted from Nabiki's schemes before._ Memories rose to the surface of her mind of all the times she'd bought candid pictures of Ranma-kun from Nabiki, or even rented him by the hour so that she could spend time with him.

Ukyo cringed in shame, clutching her knees tighter to her chest. _I... I can't believe I'm so desperate for a piece of Ranchan that I'd stoop to _that_._ And yet she did. She had.

And now, Akane was gone. Whisked away by the blood spell to some unknown place, leaving Ranma behind, minus one fiancée.

The opportunity of a lifetime. Now that Akane was out of the way, even if it was only temporarily, she could finally show Ranchan what a supportive, helpful, loving person she really was; prove to him once and for all that she was the right one for him. And without Akane's constant, violent presence to distract him, he might finally notice. And might finally start thinking of her as more than just his childhood buddy.

She knew, of course, that Shampoo had similar plans for Ranchan. It was so obvious, the way the purple-haired hussy had hovered over him the night before.

Ukyo scowled at the thought. Though she didn't have any proof -- and though she hated to admit it because of what it implied -- she was of the strong opinion that Nabiki might be right about Shampoo. She didn't think that Shampoo had really been kidnapped by any Chinese dragon. The whole blood spell thing had to be just an elaborate ruse concocted by Shampoo to get Ranchan for herself. At least it was certainly easier to believe _that_ than the fanciful story Shampoo and Cologne had perpetuated. Still, stranger things had happened...

If what she believed was true, though, then Shampoo had failed to take her seriously as a rival for Ranchan's love. In that, the Chinese Amazon had made a big mistake. Shampoo didn't realize that once Akane was gone, _she,_ Ukyo Kuonji, Ranchan's best friend and confidant, was next in line for his affection.

_Next in line..._ Ukyo grimaced. _It almost sounds like I'm waiting to get on a carnival ride._

She wanted to tell Ranchan of her suspicions about Shampoo. She would have in a second, but for one thing. He believed Shampoo's story. He had stood up for her against Nabiki when the canny girl had expressed the very things that had run through Ukyo's own mind. If she said anything now, she ran the risk of alienating him just when she finally had him within her grasp...

Ukyo sighed in frustration, uncurling herself and running her hands through her hair as she sat up on the futon. _Oh Ranchan, why do things have to be so complicated?_

Just then, Kasumi walked past the open screen. "Good morning, Ukyo," she said. "Would you like some breakfast?"

Ukyo looked at the eldest Tendo daughter. In spite of all that had happened, Kasumi still found time to think of others. Feeling strangely guilty, Ukyo pushed her confused emotions to the back of her mind, and smiled. "Thanks, Kasumi, that would be nice. Do you need any help in the kitchen?"

"That's alright. I'm almost done. Do you mind waking up Ranma and Ryoga? Nabiki is gone, and Uncle Saotome is already at the table."

"Sure, no problem," she said, kneeling to fold the futon. _Nabiki's gone?_ she thought. _I wonder where she ran off to so early?_

At that moment, Nabiki burst through the front door. She ran down the hall and past the two astonished girls, holding a small cardboard box to her chest, and leaped up the stairs, taking two at a time. She then disappeared into her room, closing the door behind her.

"Oh my," said Kasumi, looking at the stairs. "I've never seen Nabiki in such a hurry before. I wonder what she's doing."

Ukyo shook her head, baffled. "I have no idea," she said. _But knowing her, it's something sneaky._

Kasumi went back into the kitchen. Ukyo finished folding the futon and the blankets, stacking them neatly in the corner. Then she walked up the stairs, pausing just outside of Nabiki's room. She strained to hear what the girl might be doing, but it was deadly quiet on the other side of the door.

Ukyo frowned in puzzlement, then shrugged, and walked over to Ranchan's door.

She knocked. "Ranchan, wake up, it's time for breakfast."

There was no answer. She opened the door carefully and peeked in. Ranma was still asleep, lying on his back, tangled up in his covers, wearing nothing but his tank top and boxers. His arms sprawled on either side of his head, and his mouth hung slightly open. He was snoring softly.

He looked so peaceful. At that moment, it seemed impossible that he could be the center of the tangled tapestry of chaos and misunderstanding that always seemed to surround him.

Ukyo blinked, and realized that a silly smile had plastered itself on her face as she looked at Ranma. He was so _cute_ when he was asleep! Akane was so lucky. She probably saw him like this all the time...

Ukyo swallowed, and cut off the thought as her mixed emotions over Akane's disappearance swelled within her. She pushed them back down, and went over to kneel by Ranma.

"Hey," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder to shake him lightly. "Wake up. It's time to eat. You don't want to miss breakfast, do you?" She shook him again.

Ranma sighed, rubbed his arm across his forehead, mumbled something incoherent, and rolled over. Still sound asleep.

Ukyo grinned and felt her eyes moisten. That was just so... so _him_. Watching him, being near him, she wondered what it would be like to wake up every morning and see him like this, by her side. At the thought, her heart seemed so full it felt like it would burst. She pressed a hand to her chest to hold in the sensation, almost afraid that her physical frame couldn't contain the emotions she was feeling. _Now I know what that old saying means,_ she thought, looking at Ranma with glistening eyes. _I love you so much, it hurts._

"Hey, silly," she said, speaking both to herself and Ranma as she blinked back the wetness in her eyes and shook him again. "Wake up already."

"Unghh," Ranma moaned, waving his arm limply as if trying to brush away whatever was disturbing his sleep. Ukyo giggled.

"Don't wake him up."

Ukyo gasped and turned to see Nabiki standing behind her in the doorway, looking at her with a frown.

"N-Nabiki! You startled me. Kasumi just asked me to wake him for breakfast, I..."

Nabiki's expression softened, but her eyes were still angry. Ukyo was surprised to realize that the anger wasn't directed at her. _What, then..? Maybe it has something to do with that box she had..._

"Let him sleep, Ukyo. He hasn't slept since he woke up Friday morning."

"Friday?! But today's Monday!"

"Exactly." The corner of Nabiki's mouth quirked in a half smile. "I'll bet you 2,000 yen that, left to himself, he doesn't wake up before noon."

Ukyo knew better than to bet against Nabiki. "I'll pass," she said, waving her hands and getting to her feet. "I'm sorry, I had no idea he'd gone so long without sleep."

"Yes, well," said Nabiki, turning to walk down the hallway, "Akane's disappearance and those spell voices in his head have really messed him up."

"..." Ukyo followed Nabiki silently down the stairs.

Ryoga was already awake and kneeling at the table as Kasumi dished out breakfast. Ukyo knelt down next to him and cast a disparaging look at Genma-panda, who was already wolfing down his food with alarming speed. "Pig," she muttered, failing to notice when Ryoga flinched beside her.

Ryoga glanced sidelong at Ukyo, and relaxed slightly when he realized she was looking at Genma. He sighed in relief and turned to Kasumi. "Thank you, Kasumi," he said, as she finished loading his plate. "I'm sorry if we're being a nuisance and all..."

"Nonsense," said Kasumi. She smiled as usual, but Ryoga could see that the past few days had taken its toll on her. Her smile was sincere, but her eyes were sad and tired. "I know that both you and Ukyo will do everything you can to help Ranma find Akane. It's nice to know they have such good friends."

Ukyo and Ryoga both looked down and stared at their hands uncomfortably.

"Nabiki, aren't you going to have breakfast?" Kasumi turned as Nabiki walked by headed for the front door wearing her spring jacket, her hands stuffed in the pockets.

"No time, oneechan," she said without turning. Then she muttered, "The whole thing was silent, not a thing. Time for me to stir the pot a little and see what comes to the surface."

And she was out the door.

"What did she say?" Ryoga asked, turning to Ukyo.

Ukyo raised a single eyebrow in confusion. "Something about a silent pot, I think, but don't ask me what she meant by it."

"Oh my," said Kasumi.

--------------------

Mousse was stooped over sweeping up broken glass from the shattered door when Nabiki arrived at the Nekohanten. "Don't mind me," she said lightly, stepping through the door frame and maneuvering around the Chinese boy. "I'll let myself in."

Mousse straightened and peered at her through his glasses. "Nabiki Tendo? What are you doing here so early?"

"Oh, nothing much." She flashed a bright smile, not knowing or caring if Mousse could see it or not. "Just thought I'd stop by and chat with the old ghoul for a few minutes."

"Insolent girl."

Nabiki's smile suddenly turned reptilian, and she turned to face Cologne. The withered crone stood balanced on her staff by the kitchen doorway. Shampoo stood behind her.

Even better.

"Well, Nabiki Tendo, what do you want?" Cologne asked, unconcerned. "We aren't open until 10, so if you need food, you'll have to come back later."

"You know that's not what I'm here for," Nabiki answered.

The ancient Amazon and the teenage girl stared at each other for a few moments, neither of them blinking, like two coiled snakes ready to strike. Shampoo and Mousse watched the silent exchange uneasily.

Finally Cologne spoke. "I'm not a mind reader, girl. Are you going to tell me what you want, or are you going to leave so that we can get back to work? I'm a busy woman, you know."

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "Oh yes, I know. You've been hard at work the past few weeks. Or perhaps even longer. Tell me, exactly how long did it take you to think up this flimsy Chinese dragon/kidnapping alibi when you decided to cast a blood spell on my sister?"

Cologne's eyes narrowed. "So that's what this is all about. You still believe that this was all a plot to get rid of Akane and trap Ranma, is that right?"

"To put it bluntly -- yes."

The old crone sighed. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I can see that your mind is set, so there's probably nothing I can say or do to convince you of the truth."

Nabiki smiled nonchalantly. "You're right on that count. However, that doesn't mean I don't have a few things that _I_ could say to Ranma to convince him that your so-called truth is nothing but a pack of lies."

"Is that so?" Cologne's voice was like ice.

"Mm-hm." Nabiki nodded. "Things like pointing out the big gaping holes in your story that he was too tired and distracted to notice. Such as, if this blood spell was supposed to make him hate Shampoo, and it succeeded in taking my sister away and putting those voices in his head, _why, then, didn't the spell make him hate Shampoo_? Surely, for such a powerful blood spell, that would be the easiest thing of all to accomplish."

Shampoo paled. Nabiki smiled at her, slow and cold, her eyes glinting.

Cologne gazed at Nabiki levelly. "You do not understand, foolish child. Allow me to explain. The _purpose_ of the spell was to turn Ranma's heart away from Shampoo. The actual _mechanics_ of the spell, to accomplish that purpose, involved the removal of your sister and the placement of the spell voices in Ranma's mind."

Nabiki blinked. Cologne smiled, and continued, speaking with clear, cold reasoning. "There was nothing in the actual spell that would force Ranma to hate Shampoo by magically altering his feelings. The dragon knew that once the spell was cast, Shampoo would seem the most likely culprit. Ranma's anger -- which, I might add, _did_ occur --was completely natural, and completely uninfluenced by any magical mind-control, which is just the way the dragon wanted it.

"You can now see the deviousness of the dragon's plan. The dragon wanted to break Shampoo's spirit with the knowledge that Ranma hated her of his own free will, without any actual mind-altering influence exerted over him. So you see, the spell did, in fact, accomplish its purpose. Fortunately, however, Shampoo and I escaped the dragon -- something the beast did not count on -- and we returned to Japan as soon as possible with the hope that we could somehow undo the damage that was wrought by the dragon's evil."

Nabiki's smile had crumbled to an expression of defeat. Cologne's wrinkled face split in a chilling grin.

"As you know," the old ghoul continued, "Ranma is no longer angry at Shampoo and myself. We have thus undone at least half of the damage. Now we will try to undo the other half, by finding a way to break the blood spell, and return your sister to you."

Cologne moved closer to Nabiki, who was blinking in shock. "We really do want to help you, but it would be nice if you stopped leveling these unfounded accusations at us. I understand you want Akane back. We all do. Give us a chance, and we will do everything in our power to help you."

Nabiki blinked, then her expression dissolved into one of cool blankness. _Damn_, she thought. _She's good_.

Her expression hardened. "Well, I'll give you one thing," she said, forcing anger into the coolness of her voice. "You spent more time thinking up that story than I originally gave you credit for. If you think I'm going to give up so easily, think again. I'm going to prove to Ranma that you are the one behind the blood spell."

Cologne sighed and shook her head as if patiently dealing with a not-so-bright child. "And how are you planning on doing that? With this?" She held out a small hand-held tape recorder that, moments ago, had been in Nabiki's jacket pocket. It was still recording. Nabiki blanched.

"Hoping to trip us up, eh girl? Get it on tape and play it for Ranma as indisputable proof of our treachery?" She tossed it back to Nabiki, who caught it clumsily. "Go ahead and play this conversation for him. I'm sure he'll find it fascinating. Now, if you don't mind, we have a business to run, as well as a blood spell to remove."

Nabiki stared at Cologne, her expression unreadable. Then she turned on her heel, walked past a gaping Mousse, and out the door.

--------------------

Shampoo stood in Cologne's meditation chambers, pacing back and forth nervously while the old Amazon leafed through an ancient tome. She glanced up in mild irritation.

"Shampoo, calm down. As you just witnessed, our alibi is solid. Not even the scrutiny of that devious Tendo girl was able to penetrate it. If anything, she's firmly established the validity of our claim."

Shampoo stopped pacing and faced Cologne, her face pale, her expression troubled, but firm. "Great-grandmother, I worried. Nabiki, she sneaky girl, she perceptive. She..." Shampoo lowered her voice, even though she knew Mousse was gone on errands. "She know we cast the blood spell."

"What does that matter?" Cologne responded archly. "It will do her no good. She won't convince Son-in-law. You saw for yourself how he stood up for you last night when she went after us then and there." She chuckled. "I tell you, great-granddaughter, that boy is practically yours. When he finally accepts the fact that he'll never see Akane again, he'll fall right into your arms, and you'll be there to comfort him and be his wife. Then your honor will be restored, and we will all return home together."

Shampoo sank down to the floor, her arms wrapped around her shoulders, shuddering as if she was cold. "I hope you right, great-grandmother."

"Of course I'm right."

"Good," said Shampoo. _Because I have a horrible feeling about all this. We've done too much, we've gone too far..._

"Is... " Shampoo paused, swallowed. "Is there way to get Akane back?"

Cologne turned and faced her granddaughter, her eyes narrowing. "Why are you asking that?" she said coldly.

Shampoo shrank under Cologne's gaze, but then straightened. She had faced the Ancient One, after all. She had fought demon hordes, and had cast a blood spell bought with her own blood price. After all that, she should be able to face her great-grandmother without fear. "Because," she said strongly, "Akane gone not just affect Ranma... or Nabiki. Her family miss her. Mousse tell me her father, he shrivel up inside. He may die of much sadness."

Cologne looked at Shampoo speculatively, surprised at the girl's show of defiant spirit. She had seen it often, but it had never been directed at her before. "This does not affect us. Why do you care?"

Shampoo frowned as she searched for the words to make her grandmother understand. "Is... Is not honorable. Maybe... after we take Ranma to China... maybe we bring back Akane so her father not die. Ranma no need know she come back."

Cologne was silent. Shampoo waited patiently.

"There is a spell..." Cologne said at last, "but I'm afraid it is impossible to do without Ranma's presence, making it out of the question."

Shampoo's countenance fell.

"I'm sorry Shampoo." Cologne's voice was surprisingly sympathetic. "Your desire is honorable, but out of reach. Just be glad that you will soon have your husband by your side."

"Yes, great-grandmother." Shampoo sighed. "I happy for that."

--------------------

A few hours later, Nabiki ran into her room, closed the door firmly behind her, sat down at her desk, and plugged her earphones into the stereo. Fitting the earphones over her ears, she picked up the long, thin, nondescript cardboard box that she had just rushed home with, and dumped it upside-down. A cassette tape fell into her open palm.

She slid the tape into the stereo cassette player, hit the play button, and listened. After a moment she hit the fast forward button. "Yeah, yeah," she muttered. "Let's get on with it." After a moment, she hit the play button again. And heard her own voice.

"...long did it take you to think up this flimsy Chinese dragon/kidnapping alibi when you decided to cast a blood spell on my sister?"

"So that's what this is all about. You still believe that this was all a plot to get rid of Akane and trap Ranma, is that right?"

"To put it bluntly -- yes."

Nabiki sighed and hit the fast forward button. She didn't want to listen to that tedious explanation again.

Play.

"...actual spell that would cause Ranma to..."

FF. Play.

"...and return your sister..."

FF. Play.

"...think I'm going to give up so easily..."

Almost there. FF. Play.

"...don't mind, we have a business to run, as well as a blood spell to remove."

Bingo.

Long pause. The sound of footsteps walking across broken glass. Long pause.

Mousse's voice. "Wow, she was _angry_."

Cologne. "Mousse, finish sweeping up that glass, and then go order us a new door. When you're finished, come back and put a temporary screen over the entrance."

"But I--"

_Whap!_

"Gah! Okay, okay, I'm going. Jeeze..."

Sound of sweeping glass. Mousse mumbling something unintelligible and quite probably profane. Footsteps fading away as Mousse leaves. Long pause.

Even longer pause.

Nabiki drummed her fingers on her desk.

Still nothing. Just silence. _Good grief, don't these people talk to each other_?! She hit the Play/Search button. The tape sped through minutes of silence. Nabiki's frustration grew with each spin of the tape reel. Nothing! All that work for--

_Click_. Play.

"--mother, I worried. Nabiki, she sneaky girl, she perceptive. She... she know we cast the blood spell."

_YES! JACKPOT!!!_ Nabiki threw up her fists in silent victory. _TOOK THE BAIT, HOOK, LINE and SINKER!! I just KNEW it was a good idea to have their house bugged before they got home from China!!_

She listened, her mind ecstatic, yet her outward appearance calm and collected once again as she listened to Cologne and Shampoo spill the whole scheme. _This is beautiful_, she thought. _This is... a work of art_. There it was. The whole thing. Immortalized on tape. In Japanese, even. She wouldn't even have to bother getting a translator. She just couldn't wait to--

"--way to get Akane back?"

Nabiki froze. Then her hand jerked up and hit the rewind button.

Play.

"...course I'm right."

"Good."

Long pause.

"Is... Is there way to get Akane back?"

"Why are you asking that?"

"Because... Akane gone not just affect Ranma... or Nabiki. Her family miss her. Mousse tell me her father, he shrivel up inside. He may die of much sadness."

Nabiki's fists clenched convulsively, her mask of impassiveness shattering. Tears -- real tears, not the phony ones she was so expert at -- built behind her eyes, and she blinked, trembling with anger. _How dare they..._

"This does not affect us. Why do you care?"

"Is... Is not honorable. Maybe... after we take Ranma to China... maybe we bring back Akane so her father not die. Ranma no need know she come back."

Nabiki's breath caught in her throat. She listened, her eyes wide and unblinking.

"There is a spell... But I'm afraid it is impossible to do without Ranma's presence, making it out of the question."

Nabiki's hand flashed out and hit the rewind.

Play.

"...a spell... But I'm afraid it is impossible to do without Ranma's presence--"

Stop.

Nabiki smiled.

--------------------

The Nekohanten was busy, swarming with customers for the lunch hour rush. Cologne had her hands full, having sent both Mousse and Shampoo out on delivery runs, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. Using the Chestnut Fist, she had the orders hot and ready almost as soon as they were requested, to the delight of her patrons.

She spared a glance to the screen entrance as it swung open once again. Nabiki Tendo stepped through and walked straight towards her with a cool confidence that Cologne found strangely unsettling. _That girl_, she thought, frowning. _How many more times will it take before she realizes that she's 200 years too early to defeat me?_

Nabiki slid casually onto the stool in front of the counter, directly across from Cologne. "Okay, old ghoul," she said, smiling slightly, looking at the crone through half-lidded eyes. "We need to talk. I'd close the restaurant down if I were you."

Cologne bristled at the girl's audacity. "What is it this time?" she said irritably. "Another attempt to force a taped confession from me? I notice you brought your recorder along with you again. When are you going to realize--"

Nabiki pulled the recorder out, a barely contained smirk on her lips, and hit the play button.

"She know we cast the blood spell."

"What does that matter? It will do her no good. She won't convince Son-in-law. You saw for yourself how he stood up for you last night when she went after us then and there. I tell you, great-granddaughter, that boy is practically yours. When he finally accepts the fact that he'll never see Akane again, he'll fall right into your arms, and you'll be there to comfort him and be his wife. Then your honor will be restored, and we will all return home together."

Nabiki hit the stop button. Cologne's face had turned the color of rice paper.

"You were saying?" said Nabiki sweetly.

Cologne visibly took control of herself. There was a sudden flash of movement, and Nabiki found herself empty-handed. A moment later, she saw the crushed remains of her tape recorder falling from the old ghoul's hand.

Nabiki rolled her eyes. "Oh please," she said disdainfully. "You actually think that I wouldn't make back-up dubs of that tape? At this moment, over 50 dubs have been distributed to 50 of my... associates... all over Tokyo and the surrounding area. They have orders to take this straight to Ranma and play it for him should anything happen to me." She leaned back in the stool, her hands behind her head. "I may play it for him anyway. After all, it seems like such a waste for that 'dragon' to go through all the trouble of casting a spell to make Ranma hate Shampoo... and have it not work."

Cologne's eyes were narrowed in fury, and her battle aura was raging red. The patrons of the Nekohanten, noticing this, carefully got up from their seats and beat a hasty exit out the front door. In moments, the place was empty but for Nabiki and Cologne.

"Hmm," said Nabiki thoughtfully. "I'd watch that if I were you. It seems bad for business."

"What do you want?" Cologne hissed through clenched teeth.

Nabiki smiled and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter. "Okay, here's the deal. I want my sister back. You know a spell that will bring her back. Of course, casting this spell will completely destroy your elaborate scheme to trap Ranma, but... Well, that's just too bad. However, I'm going to give you a choice."

Cologne couldn't believe that she had been out-maneuvered by this impertinent stripling of a girl. There had to be a way to regain the upper hand... "A choice?" she asked, visibly swallowing her fury.

"That's right. The choice is this: You cast the spell that brings Akane back, and I don't play your confession to Ranma. You _don't_ cast the spell that brings Akane back, and you have one extremely pissed martial artist ready to tear you and your precious granddaughter to pieces."

Cologne stared.

Nabiki smiled pleasantly.

_Check and mate, you old witch_, she thought.

"I'll give you an hour to think about it," she said, sliding off the stool and heading out the door. "But if I were you, I'd cut your losses while you still can." She turned and eyed Cologne a final time. "Ranma doesn't have to know about this," she said evenly. "It really doesn't matter to me either way. He can take care of himself. I just want my sister back."

And she walked out the screen door, leaving Cologne stunned and wide-eyed.

--------------------

End of Part Seven


	9. Barriers

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 8: Barriers

by Krista Perry

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"You wanted to see me, Yuki-san?"

The Snow Woman looked up from her calligraphy, her long white hair flowing around her on the floor, to see Akane standing in the doorway of her quarters, smiling at her. The girl was wearing the new sapphire-colored silk bodice and matching silk pants with gold trim that she had made for her. The outfit was cinched at the waist with a gold buckler to emphasize her feminine curves. Strapped to Akane's back was her now ever-present katana; a gift from Masakazu.

Yuki-onna returned the smile warmly and gestured for Akane to sit down. "So, do you like it?" she asked as Akane knelt across from her.

Akane beamed, and fingered the silk of her sleeve. "Oh yes, thank you. It's beautiful. And very comfortable. Easy to move in." Her smile turned droll. "Although I don't know how long it will last. That rather persistent oni yesterday totally scorched the outfit I was wearing."

"Ah well, if this gets ruined, it will just give me an excuse to make you another one, as usual." Yuki-onna smiled, but then raised an eyebrow in concern. "How is your arm doing? Better?"

"Thanks to you." Akane extended her arm for the Snow Woman to examine. "You can hardly tell I was burned at all. If I'd only been a split second faster, he would have missed me with that flame burst altogether." She sighed, brushing her dark bangs from her eyes, and fingered a strand of shoulder-length hair. "Sensei's going to really give it to me over this, I just know it."

The Snow Woman chuckled. "Well, you tell him that I said I'll make sure he has the chills for a week if he does. Besides, from what I heard, the oni got the worst of it in the end."

Akane flushed, pleased, and laughed lightly. "Well, let's just say that I doubt this particular oni will try to come after you again any time in the near future."

"I'm very glad to hear that. You know, I've been watching your sparring matches with Masakazu. You're becoming quite proficient with your sword."

"Well, there's still a lot of room for improvement," said Akane. "I'm still light years away from beating sensei." _Heh. I _might_ be able to give Ranma a good fight, though,_ she thought, knowing better than to express thoughts about her fiance out loud in front of the Snow Woman. Yuki-onna wouldn't say anything, but whenever Ranma was mentioned, Akane could feel her friend grow cold and angry. She sighed, a sad smile on her face. _I wonder what he's doing. Wouldn't Ranma be surprised to see me now..._

Thanks to Masakazu-sensei's rigorous and merciless training over the past nine months, she had developed her martial arts abilities to the point where she was now a force to be reckoned with. She was faster and more dexterous than she had ever been -- had ever hoped to be -- and her skill with wielding the katana more than surpassed anything she'd ever seen Kuno do with his bokken.

Akane smiled wryly, thinking back to the moment Masakazu-sensei had decided to train her in the use of the sword. At his insistence, she had been trying unsuccessfully for days to develop a ki attack. After three weeks, Masakazu had held his feathered head in his hands in exasperation...

--------------

"Akane," the tengu groaned, "how is it that you are unable to grasp this simple, fundamental aspect of martial arts? You cannot possibly hope to defeat a demon without learning to focus your ki. You can't just _punch out_ a demon, you know. Inhabitants of this realm must be defeated with _spiritual_ energy."

"I know, I know," Akane snapped, her mouth pinched in frustration. "I just _can't_! I don't know why!" Then the anger drained out of her and she sagged to the floor, sitting cross-legged in her gi. She looked dejectedly at her hands, her short black hair hanging in wisps around her sad, weary eyes.

"Why can't I do it? Ranma made it look so easy," she said softly. "He just concentrated, and the energy would form in his hands." She thought back to the ki blast he released at the blood spell. She'd never seen him use so much power before. Yes, it had left him totally drained, but he'd summoned and focused the power so effortlessly. Then again, when it came to martial arts, Ranma seemed to do _everything_ so effortlessly...

"Back to Ranma again, is it?" the tengu asked, his black eyes blinking with a sympathy that she didn't notice. He sighed and shook his head. "I find it amazing that you can harbor so many mixed feelings about this boy within your heart. One moment you are aching for his company, the next you are insanely jealous over his superior skill as a martial artist, or at the thought he might be spending time with one of his 'other fiancees.'

"The fiancée thing I can understand," he said, when Akane winced at his exasperated tone. "But how can you begrudge him when he excels in something he takes such pride in, and gives him such happiness? Correct me if I'm mistaken, but I was under the impression that you love Ranma."

Akane flushed with both embarrassment and shame. Embarrassment because, even though she had admitted it to herself, it still sounded strange to have someone point out her true feelings for Ranma -- something the tengu did frequently, in spite of his merciless habit of tormenting her with Ranma's voice during their sparring matches. Shame because she knew that Masakazu-sensei was right. If she really did love Ranma, she shouldn't be angry at him just because he was naturally gifted at martial arts, whereas _she_ had to fight and struggle for each iota of improvement in her skills. She should be proud of him, happy for him.

She _was_ proud of him, actually. Though she never would have admitted it a few months ago, Ranma was strong and swift and... handsome. And so nice when he wanted to be. When she _allowed_ him to be...

The memory of him doing his morning katas surfaced in her mind. His fluid grace, his intense focus, the way his finely toned muscles moved as he went through each difficult routine... She remembered watching him from her bedroom window, her expression surprisingly soft, and feeling proud, glad in her heart that he was her fiance. _If only I had told him..._

She sighed. Tears again. She swiped at them angrily. How in Kami was she going to make it through six and a half more years of this? She had so many regrets over how she'd mishandled her relationship with Ranma, so many fears that she would never get the chance to tell him how she really felt...

_Oh Ranma. I miss you. Please don't forget about me..._

"Akane. I want you to have this."

Akane looked up, wiping the wetness from her eyes, to see Masakazu holding out a katana, the blade resting on his outstretched, feathered palms. She stood, confusion flickering over her face as she took the sword by the hilt and hefted it.

"You... you want me to learn kendo?" she asked, trying to push thoughts of Ranma aside so that she could concentrate on her sensei's teachings. She gave the sword an experimental circular swing with a movement of her wrist. Its weight and balance perfectly suited her, and she smiled. She had trained a little in kendo, but she had learned from experience that anything Masakazu taught her always surpassed anything she'd learned before she came to the Kami plane. It was as if all the training she'd done in the mortal plane had been in a half-lit room, whereas being trained by the tengu was like pulling back the window shades and allowing the sun to stream in.

"Actually," he responded, "I want to try a little experiment to see if it will help you focus your ki. I know you have no lack of it," he said, his black eyes gleaming. "Your battle aura, which flares so frequently, is proof of that."

Akane looked at the smooth sharp blade in admiration. It was a beautiful weapon. "But how will a sword help me focus my ki?"

The tengu tilted his head and blinked at her, looking very bird-like. "I believe your problem with focusing your ki lies in your inability to find your own path. You've spent too much time trying to imitate Ranma's methods, when his methods do not suit you. Think of the time when Ranma tried to master Ryoga's Shishi Houkodan. He could not master it because it didn't fit his personality."

Akane blinked, but said nothing. She always found it unnerving, the way the tengu was able to pluck out memories from her mind at will and use them as teaching examples. Still, it kept her honest, especially with herself. She knew she could never hide anything from Masakazu-sensei.

"Ranma created a ki attack that worked for him," he continued. "You need to do the same, yet you keep falling back into Ranma's shadow. His ki attack will not work for you." The tengu reached out and put his ruddy feathered hand over her own. "You must separate yourself from these fears of inadequacy you have, Akane. You are not Ranma. You are not Shampoo, or Ukyo or Kodachi.

"But you _are_ Akane. As soon as you learn that this is enough, you will find your focus."

Masakazu gestured to the katana. "Think of this as a part of yourself. Something that is unique, something that separates you from the others, that allows you to step from their shadows and shine with your own light."

Akane looked at the gleaming metal of the sword and clasped the hilt in front of her with both hands. Could she actually think of herself being as bright and beautiful as this katana? She closed her eyes and tried to feel as if the sword were an extension of herself. Masakazu's voice seemed to come directly into her mind.

Focus on this, Akane. Think of it as a symbol of the strength that lies within you. Let your ki flow through you and into the katana. Allow it to be a conduit for your ki, a physical representation of the power within you.

Akane tried to imagine what the tengu was telling her. She felt her battle aura build around her, and tried to will it through her arms, into her hands, into the solid, strangely comforting grip of the sword, and along the long, curved blade.

"Akane!"

Akane's eyes flew open at Masakazu's exclamation, and stared wide-eyed at the blade she held in front of her. It pulsed with blue energy. Akane let out a startled squawk and dropped the sword. It clattered to the floor, the ki energy dissipating instantly.

"Well done, Akane! I knew you could do it." Masakazu's eyes smiled over his expressionless beak. "Now _that_ is something that will actually do some damage to those devils out there!"

"I..." Akane blinked, and her throat felt tight. An incredulous smile tugged at her mouth. "I did it?" _I did it_, she thought ecstatically. _I can't believe it. I've got a ki attack_.

"Now that you've managed this much, the rest should be easy."

Akane's cheer plummeted. She knew from experience what _that_ meant. She groaned in exhausted protest. "The... rest?"

Masakazu patted her on the shoulder. "Of course! Now that you've gotten a taste of what it's like to actually focus your ki, you need to practice controlling it. If you could release it in controlled blasts from your sword, that would really give those demons something to think twice about. And we'll start on your kendo training immediately. The blade itself, especially charged with your ki, will be a most formidable weapon..."

-------------

"Do you want me to work on the blood spell now, or do you want to wait until after supper?"

Akane blinked, coming out of her musing. The Snow Woman was smiling, her frost blue eyes twinkling. "Well? Sorry to startle you out of your train of thought. Do all mortals get glassy-eyed as often as you do?"

Akane humphed. "Very funny," she said with mock seriousness that dissolved into a grin. "I don't mind if you work on the blood spell now, as long as that's okay with you."

"Very well." Yuki-onna patted the mat in front of her. "Come sit."

Akane got into her standard position, her back facing the Snow Woman. The Snow Woman focused herself, then began pulling at the wisps of dragon blood in Akane's ki.

She always worked in the same place, in the spot just between Akane's shoulder blades. When Akane had asked why, the Snow Woman simply replied that there was a certain strand of dragon blood, woven deep within the spell, that, if she could just get to it and remove it, would solve a lot of their problems.

So every day, the Snow Woman removed strand after strand, trying to hold back the rest of the blood spell that moved to fill in the gaps she left, as she attempted to reach the troublesome wisp that she insisted was the core of spell.

Akane closed her eyes, feeling the not-unpleasant tingle of magic as the Snow Woman worked in silence. Minutes passed.

"Akane..."

Akane glanced over her shoulder. She usually didn't speak when the Snow Woman was working, not wanting to disrupt her concentration. She was surprised that Yuki-onna was addressing her. "Yes?" she asked.

She suddenly felt the tingle of magic stop as the Snow Woman's hands went still. She turned. "Is something wrong?" she asked, worried. Yuki-onna was looking at her with a strange, pensive expression. She had never seen such an expression on the Snow Woman's smooth white face before. "What is it?" she asked, her apprehension growing. Maybe there was something wrong with the blood spell...

"Akane..." said the Snow Woman, her eyes shimmering with some unidentifiable emotion. "Do you... do you like it here?"

Akane sighed with relief and smiled, reaching out to take Yuki-onna's hand in her own. "Of course I do," she said. "I've learned so much from Masakazu-sensei; and you... you've been so kind to me. Almost like a mother..." Akane broke off as tears suddenly brimmed in the Snow Woman's eyes, sliding down her face and freezing into ice crystals.

Akane panicked, her brows creasing over her brown eyes in concern. She had never seen the Snow Woman cry before. "I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?"

The Snow Woman brushed the ice crystals from her face with a slim, white hand, and she smiled tremulously. "No, dear," she said, giving Akane's hand a squeeze. "You didn't say anything wrong. I... I'm glad you like it here." She motioned for Akane to turn around so she could resume her work. Akane complied, a relieved, but slightly puzzled expression on her face.

"Don't worry, Akane," Yuki-onna said softly. "I'll get to that stubborn wisp of dragon blood. Then, when I remove it, everything will be fine."

--------------------

Akane started awake, bolting upright, her hand reaching to clutch the hilt of the katana at her side as something... not right... intruded on her awareness. Immediately, instinctively, she slid out of her futon, moving swiftly and silently from her room and into the crystalline corridors of the Snow Woman's home.

She paused in the main hall, where the entrance and three separate hallways intersected. Standing barefoot in her white pajamas, holding her katana aloft, her dark shoulder-length hair sticking out in a pillow-messed, static halo around her face, she listened carefully. Extending her senses in the unique way Masakazu had taught her, she tried to pinpoint where the unnatural intrusion was coming from.

She frowned. Whatever it was, it wasn't an oni. Oni were loud and raucous, and into destroying whatever lay in between them and their desired goal. Not to mention their very distinctive smell -- reminiscent of burning hair -- that gave them away every time.

_Is it a demon?_ she wondered, tensing, trying in vain to recapture the sensation she'd felt upon waking. Demons came in all shapes and sizes, and could be quite silent and sneaky -- and scent-less -- when they wanted to be. But no, it didn't feel like a demon, either. She could always tell whenever a demon was around by the tight, almost suffocating feeling in her chest, and the way her pulse always shot up a few notches in physical response to their presence. She wasn't feeling anything like that.

Still, _something_ had woken her up out of a sound sleep. If it wasn't an attack, then what was it?

She headed for Yuki-onna's chambers, the way she always did whenever she sensed something was wrong. After all, whenever something intruded into the Snow Woman's realm, it was usually coming after the Snow Woman herself.

The past few days, though, there had been instances when lustful invaders, while battling Akane to get to the Snow Woman, had figured one woman was just as good as another. More and more often, Akane found that she was defending herself almost as much as she was preventing the carnal denizens of the Kami plane from reaching her friend. In a strange way, the battles brought back memories of mornings at Furinkan High after Kuno had issued that stupid challenge to the male population of the student body.

Of course, demons and oni were much more difficult to defeat in combat than a bunch of hormone-crazed high school boys. But they were nothing she couldn't handle with her new skills.

Akane frowned as she approached Yuki-onna's quarters. The feeling that something was not right still niggled at the back of her mind, yet she could find no sign of any of the normal threats that she usually faced. Not a demon or an oni in sight. Still, she didn't discount the possibility that it could be some kind of trap to lull her into relaxing her defenses.

She stopped outside the Snow Woman's door and knocked softly. "Yuki-san?" she called. It was customary for the Snow Woman to stay in her quarters when a threat was evident, for there she could have the time to summon enough power to defend herself, should it come to that.

It was silent inside. Akane slid the door open. The room was dark. "Yuki-san? Are you alright?"

No answer. Panic began to build in Akane's chest. What if a demon had somehow slipped past her and had managed to abduct Yuki-onna? She would have failed in defending and protecting the woman who trusted her, who had become her friend and confidant over the past nine months; the woman who was her only hope to remove the blood spell that bound her to the Kami realm.

"Yuki-san?! Where are you?" Akane focused her ki, and her katana blazed with blue light. She held it aloft, lighting the room. The room was empty. There was no sign of the Snow Woman. _Oh no! Where...?_

She saw a movement out of the corner of her eye, and she turned, sword ready, only to see that it was her own reflection in the oval full-length mirror that stood in the corner of the room. Akane saw herself, looking like a ghost in her white pajamas, lit by the blue light of her ki, her mussed hair falling past her shoulders, a strange reminder of the time that had passed since she came to the Kami plane.

Fear and worry clawing at her mind, Akane turned to the door, ready to run to outside and start searching the snowy, barren landscape for her friend, when...

She froze. There it was; the sound that had roused her from sleep. A soft wailing, faint and ethereal...

Akane swallowed, her brown eyes huge and scared. "Yuki-san?" she whispered. _It's her... Where is she?_

A wail... sobbing... whispering through the room without direction.

"Yuki-san!" Akane called, her voice echoing off the icy walls.

The whispering wail again. It sounded so sad, so desperate... Akane felt tears of helplessness spill down her cheeks as she strained to hear, trying to locate its source. "Yuki-san, please, answer me!"

"...oh please..." A voice. The Snow Woman's, so faint, so distant and full of such pain. "... my little ones, my babies... oh my lost ones..." The despairing cry echoed and ebbed from nowhere.

"... my lost little ones..."

Akane stood, her katana hanging limp in her hand, her face stricken in shock. She felt a familiar presence behind her, and turned.

"Go back to bed, Akane-chan," said Masakazu, standing in the doorway. "There is nothing you can do for her, not tonight."

Akane swallowed. "Where is she? Is she alright?"

"She is fine. You do not need to worry about protecting her this night, or any night you awake sensing this... disturbance."

"She..." Akane's face twisted in sympathetic grief as the evidence of her friend's suffering faintly reached her ears. "She was... a mother?"

The tengu peered at her, as if carefully considering something. Akane felt as if he was staring right into her soul, and she shivered.

At last, he nodded. "Long ago. She fell in love with a young woodcutter, whose life she spared when he... when he should have frozen to death after he got lost in a snow storm. She gave up everything to be with him. She lived as a mortal by his side, and they had two children, both daughters, whom she loved more than life itself. But the man... betrayed her... and in doing so, broke the spell that allowed her to stay as a mortal in the mortal plane. She was separated from both him and her children. She never saw them again. Her daughters grew old and died without knowing her. Some nights..."

The tengu trailed off as another faint sob whispered through the room.

He bowed his head. "Some nights..." he continued softly, "she returns to the mortal plane. Wherever the land is bitter cold, she goes there and becomes one with the storm and the wind, and mourns for her lost children. And on some nights, like tonight, her grief spans the barriers between the planes."

Akane was speechless. There was nothing to say, no words that could bring comfort to the pain she heard in the voice that was so familiar, yet so alien. Tears slid down her cheeks as, once again, the haunting wail echoed faintly in the room.

"Go to bed, Akane-chan. She will be back in the morning. But do not mention this to her. It is not a subject she likes to discuss."

Akane swallowed and nodded numbly. She wiped her tears on her sleeve and, clutching her katana's hilt to her chest, walked quietly back to her room.

_I can keep demons from reaching Yuki-san,_ she thought sadly, as she slid back into her futon and stared at the ceiling, _but how can I help her with the demons that already have a hold on her?_

--------------------

Cologne found the bugs right after Nabiki left the Nekohanten, the girl's ultimatum still ringing in her ears. The ancient Amazon trembled with fury, a fury that grew as she went from room to room, searching, finding bugs in every single room in both the restaurant and the living quarters. And she still wasn't sure she'd found them all. The fact that she had been so outmaneuvered galled her more than anything she'd ever experienced in her life. Perhaps if they had spoken in Mandarin... But no, that pest of a girl probably had a translator for just such an occasion.

Still, there was a chance...

When Shampoo returned from deliveries, Cologne motioned her into silence. The purple-haired Amazon paled at the look on her great-grandmother's face, but obeyed as she followed the old woman out of the restaurant. They took to the roof tops and crossed half of Nerima district before coming to rest on the roof of a house in a quiet neighborhood. There, Cologne, her anger barely contained, told the girl what had transpired.

Shampoo began to sob. "Aiya. It no work now. If you cast spell to bring Akane back now, things just like before."

"Quit your childish crying, Shampoo," snapped Cologne. "There is still a chance to salvage our plan." From her robes, she pulled a small bottle with the label "110." Shampoo's sobbing ceased when she saw it, and she took it from Cologne's hands, a gleam appearing in her eyes.

"That sneaky Tendo girl will be back for our answer in less than an hour," said Cologne. "When she comes, use this to erase her memory of the tape's existence. If she doesn't remember it, she can't tell her people to play it for Son-in-law. And nothing will happen to her -- physically, that is -- so her people won't know anything is wrong."

Shampoo nodded. "That good plan," she said.

Nabiki, however, was prepared.

When she walked into the Nekohanten for the third time that day, she found both Cologne and Shampoo waiting for her. Shampoo was looking at her with an expression usually reserved for cats about to pounce on their prey, and in one hand she held a small bottle and a comb. She tensed to leap at Nabiki when suddenly, a beeping sound came from Nabiki's pocket. Nabiki held up her hand, and Shampoo paused uncertainly, her eyes wide, wondering what strange trick the Tendo girl had up her sleeve.

Nabiki pulled out a small cellular phone from her jacket pocket. "Excuse me a moment," she said, lowering her hand and smiling with saccharine sweetness at Cologne and Shampoo. She flipped the phone open and held it to her ear. "Yes, I'm in. Everything checks out okay," she said, deliberately looking at the bottle in Shampoo's hand. "Hold the release of the tape for another hour. We'll speak again then, and you'll get my instructions. And you'll know what to do if anything... strange happens. All right. In an hour then. Bye."

She closed the phone and slid it back into her pocket. She turned to Shampoo. "You planning on doing something with that?" she asked, her eyes wide and innocent as she looked at the bottle and comb in the Amazon's hand.

Shampoo felt numb. It was all over. She had lost. After all that she had done, after the Ancient One, the demons, and the blood price, she had lost. Ranma would never willingly be her husband; not if they were forced to bring Akane back. "Shampoo not know what you talking," she said lifelessly. "Shampoo just on way to take shower."

Nabiki smirked. "Of course." She turned to Cologne. "Well, what will it be, old ghoul? Do you bring my sister back, safe and unharmed physically, mentally, _and_ without any weird magical side-effects, or does Ranma get an ear-full of how you got rid of her to trap him?"

Cologne seethed. She longed to reach out and break the girl's neck with a flick of her finger. All the numerous and diverse ways to kill a person, both painlessly and... not so... flashed through her mind. She could do it. She could kill the girl, and then she and Shampoo could flee to China to escape the repercussions of the act. Perhaps even make it appear as if that fool boy Mousse was responsible.

But then there would be no going home. To go back to the tribe, having failed to return with Ranma, Shampoo's known husband by law, especially after resorting to such serious magic... For such dishonor, they would be banished, or worse.

On the other hand...

Cologne peered at Nabiki intently. The girl seemed to have an agenda all her own. She only cared about getting Akane back. It didn't seem to matter to her whether or not Ranma heard the truth that was on the tapes. Hmm. If she _did_ cast the spell to bring back that troublesome girl...

"If I bring Akane back," she said slowly, "do you swear that Ranma shall never know about Shampoo's and my involvement with the blood spell?"

Nabiki looked at her coolly. "I already told you the terms. You bring Akane back, and Ranma never finds out what's on those tapes."

Cologne nodded slightly, noting to herself that Nabiki made no stipulations about Son-in-law finding out through some other means.

"If there is _any_ chance of him finding out about our involvement, we lose everything we have invested in the boy," she replied. "Returning your sister will set us back to square one, which is inconvenient, considering the work we've done to remove the obstacles to Son-in-law's heart. But it's not something we couldn't deal with... eventually."

Nabiki's eyes narrowed at the veiled threat, but she recognized the offer as well. She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "All right," she said. "Try this on for size. You bring back Akane, and swear that you will never do anything to hurt or enchant or displace either her or any member of my family again, and I will use my... talents... to make sure that Ranma never finds out that you and Shampoo had anything to do with the blood spell."

Shampoo listened to the exchange, a small spark of hope igniting in her heart once again.

Cologne considered the offer carefully. With Akane back in the picture, she knew it would be next to impossible to get Ranma to marry Shampoo willingly. That was a dream her great granddaughter would have to live without. Still, Nabiki's terms may prevent her from interfering with the Tendos, but didn't say anything about including Ranma in the deal.

Nabiki was leaving Son-in-law open as fair game. And Cologne could tell by the look in her eyes that the girl knew it. That was the deal.

Resolved, she looked Nabiki in the eye. "I agree to your terms," she said. "Bring Ranma here tonight, and we will return your sister to you."

Nabiki's eyes glinted brightly from under lowered lids. "Nice doing business with you," she said, smiling.

--------------------

Ranma woke up feeling better than he had in a long time.

Physically, that is.

The first thing that surfaced in his mind as he came out of sleep was the thought that he had to find Akane. The thought pierced through his soul with such anguished intensity that he felt guilty for having slept at all when he should be searching for a way to get her back.

Then he noticed that... something was missing...

_What..?_ he thought. Then he realized. The spell voices. The constant babble that he had forced to the back of his mind so that he could think clearly, keeping them there by sheer will, were gone.

_Gone... How?_ He didn't know whether to be glad or worried. Did that mean that the spell was broken? And if the spell was broken, then did that mean that Akane might have come back?

Ranma leaped out of his futon before the thought was even finished, almost tripping on his tangled blankets, burst out of the bedroom door, and tore down the stairs. He stopped short in the living room where Nabiki, Ukyo and Ryoga sat in a circle playing poker. They stared at him with wide eyes.

"Is she here?" he asked breathlessly.

Ukyo blinked. "Is who here, Ranchan?"

Ranma's heart sank, and the hopeful expression on his face imploded. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "N... Never mind. I thought Akane might have come back, that's all."

"What made you think that?" asked Nabiki, looking at him curiously.

"The spell voices," he said, pointing to his head. "They're gone. I don't know how or why, but I don't hear them anymore. I was hoping..."

_The spell voices are gone?_ thought Nabiki. _That's strange. But maybe Shampoo only wanted it to be temporary. I guess she realized having a husband who hears voices in his head isn't such a great thing._

"It's about time you woke up, Saotome," said Ryoga critically, his arms folded across his chest. "We've been waiting for hours. Nabiki," he said, casting her an evil glance, "has something to tell you."

Nabiki ignored the crusty look from Ryoga and looked at Ranma. "That's right. I went over to the Nekohanten this afternoon, and found out that Cologne has already found a spell that can get Akane back." She smiled guilessly and put on her best Kasumi expression. "Imagine that!"

Ranma blinked. He looked out the window and noticed the sun was hanging low in the western sky. He turned back to Nabiki. "You... you knew this afternoon, and you didn't wake me up?!"

Ryoga threw up his hands. "That's what _I've_ been saying!"

"Oh, be quiet, you two. Ranma, you needed to sleep and get your strength back. Now that you're rested, we'll all go. Together," said Nabiki firmly, stopping Ranma as he turned to run out the door. "You may as well stick around, because Cologne knows not to start the spell until I get there anyway."

Ranma turned back, growling in frustration, and glared at Nabiki. "And why is that?" he asked, disgruntled.

"Oh, just a little deal I worked out with her, to make sure I didn't miss any of the action this time," she answered smoothly.

"Well then," said Ranma impatiently. "We're all here. Let's get going."

"One thing, Ranma?" said Nabiki coyly.

"What is it? We're wasting time standing here!"

She pointed at him. "You might want to consider getting dressed first."

Ranma looked down to see that he was simply wearing his tank top and boxers. Ukyo burst out laughing at look on his face. "Ah, jeeze," he muttered, and ran upstairs to change into some clothes.

Nabiki went over to the phone, picked up the receiver, and dialed. "Hello, Doctor Tofu? Yes, Ranma's awake, and we're on our way to the Nekohanten now... Great. We'll see you there." She hung up the phone.

"Why does Doctor Tofu need to be there," asked Ukyo. "You don't think something's going to go wrong with the spell, do you?" There was a strange mixture of apprehension and... hope?... in her voice.

Nabiki gave her a narrow look, but Ukyo just gazed back at her. "Doctor Tofu is familiar with how some of those strange Chinese spells work," she said finally. "Let's just say that I want him there to make sure everything goes right. You never know when all that weird archaic knowledge of his is going to come in handy."

"That's a great idea, Nabiki," said Ryoga enthusiastically. "No sense in taking chances, after all, especially when it comes to getting Akane back."

"Yeah," said Ukyo, a little too cheerfully. "It would be a shame if something were to happen and the spell didn't work."

Nabiki raised an eyebrow at Ukyo and opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment, Ranma ran down the stairs, wearing his red sleeveless Chinese shirt and black pants. "Is it okay to go _now_?" he asked impatiently.

Nabiki smiled sweetly. "But of course, Ranma. After you." She gestured out the door. Then she noticed that Ranma was giving her a funny look. "What?" she asked.

"It'll take too long to walk if we have to wait for you," he said, and in one swift movement, swept her up in his arms.

Nabiki let out a startled, undignified squawk. "What do you think you're doing?" she exclaimed, but Ranma wasn't listening.

"Come on," he said to Ryoga and Ukyo. "Let's go, Ucchan. Follow me, Ryoga, and don't get lost." Ranma ran out into the yard carrying Nabiki in his arms, and leapt from the wall to a neighboring roof.

Ryoga fumed, but followed close behind nonetheless.

Nabiki gasped as she saw and felt the ground moving away rapidly leap after leap, and she threw her arms around Ranma's neck to make sure she didn't slip out of his grasp. After jumping from rooftop to rooftop for a few moments, and realizing how solid Ranma's grip was, she relaxed, and allowed a little if her indignation to dissolve away. She looked into Ranma's face. He was staring straight ahead, moving with such focused ease, it was almost as if he didn't realize he was carrying her. And he had _that_ look on his face. The peculiar shimmer in his blue eyes that said he was thinking about Akane...

Nabiki sighed. She allowed herself a small, self-indulgent smile as she felt Ranma's sleek muscles moving beneath his shirt as he ran. _Ah well_, she thought with a mental shrug. _There are worse ways to travel, I guess_.

Ukyo stood in the Tendo yard, looking after Ranma's rapidly diminishing form for a moment. The smile on her face had long since crumbled away, as if a huge weight had settled over her, crushing it. Then she sighed heavily and leaped to the wall, following after the man she loved.

_So close..._ she thought.

The light of the setting sun reflected off the unshed tears in her eyes.

--------------------

Ranma swallowed and licked his lips nervously as he sat cross-legged on the floor of the Nekohanten restaurant. Cologne knelt on the floor next to him, drawing arcane symbols, and spreading a thin, musky smelling powder in a circle around him, occasionally consulting an ancient leather scroll, and muttering in Chinese. Ranma wondered how she could read the strange Chinese scrawl in the semi-darkness. The lights were off, and the blinds had been partially pulled, allowing the last of the sunset glow to stream in on the proceedings. The tables and chairs had been cleared out of the way, and his friends, Ryoga, Ukyo, Shampoo, Mousse and Nabiki, sat on the edge of the room, watching the proceedings uneasily.

Nabiki seemed especially anxious. She kept looking at the door as if expecting someone to come through at any moment.

Ranma tried hard not to fidget. He could hardly believe it! He was going to get Akane back. His chest felt tight as a plethora of emotions swirled inside him. He was excited and nervous all at the same time. He was happy and scared to see Akane again. Was she okay? Would she be glad to see him? Or would she be angry at him for not being able to save her and mallet him into the floor?

He cleared his throat. "Uh... How exactly is this supposed to work?" he asked as Cologne consulted the scroll again. She glared at him briefly for interrupting her.

"The mechanics of the spell are simple, Ranma. All you have to do is concentrate on Akane. Focus on her with all your being, and when the incense is lit and the incantation recited, you will pull her from wherever she's been sent to."

Nabiki frowned. That seemed _way_ too simple...

Shampoo and Ukyo frowned, not liking the idea of Ranma focusing on Akane with his whole being.

Just then, there was a knock on the screen door. Cologne's irritation at the interruptions grew. "Now who could that be? The sign says we're closed."

Nabiki stood, not allowing the relief she felt to show on her face. "Oh, that must be Doctor Tofu. I invited him to come and help you with the spell. I was sure you wouldn't mind. After all, we're all here to help Ranma and Akane, and give them our support, aren't we?"

Cologne shot Nabiki a look that would have turned anyone else into stone. Nabiki returned the gaze steadily.

"Doctor Tofu's here?" asked Ranma. He glanced around out of habit, just to make sure Kasumi wasn't anywhere around. "That's great," he said. "Just in case Akane needs help or anything when she comes back."

Cologne glanced at Ranma, and forced herself to relax. "Shampoo," she said at last, "go let the man in."

Shampoo nodded and went to unlock the screen door. Tofu stepped through and blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. "Hello," he said, bowing to Cologne. "Thank you for allowing me to come and participate in this. I've read about the magic of the ancient Chinese Amazons, but I've never had the opportunity to see that magic in use. This is a priceless opportunity for me."

Cologne looked up at the young doctor. They sized each other up for a moment.

Tofu looked at her calmly through his glasses. He was glad Nabiki had informed him of this little gathering. He'd been a personal witness to some of the underhanded tricks the ancient Amazon had pulled on Ranma, such as inflicting him with the Full Body Cat Tongue so that he couldn't stand to touch the hot water he needed to change back into a man. Tofu was pleased to hear that there was a chance to find Akane, but he wasn't sure whether or not to believe the crone's claims of innocence when it came to the blood spell, and he wanted to make sure that, in this instance, she didn't try any dark magic.

"Yesss," said Cologne reluctantly. "Well, we're just about to begin. So if you'll just step over to the side with the others..."

"My, this looks impressive," interrupted Tofu, staring at the chalked symbols on the floor. "And is this the scroll? Mind if I take a look at it?"

Cologne scowled and held it just out of his grasp. "It's in ancient Chinese, sonny-boy, you wouldn't understand it anyway."

"Oh, on the contrary. I'm quite fluent in ancient Chinese."

Cologne paled.

"If you let me just glance at the scroll for a moment," he continued, "that would help me understand what happens when you actually cast the spell."

Ranma watched the exchange with growing impatience. "Aw, come on, just let him look at it, he ain't gonna hurt it or nothing."

Shampoo looked at her great-grandmother, her brows furrowing. Grandmother had not even allowed _her_ to look at the scroll. What could possibly be on there that she wouldn't want anyone to see?

Cologne peered at Tofu. "All right," she said, relenting, much to everyone's surprise. "I trust that when you read it, you'll know _exactly_ what needs to be done for the spell to succeed."

Tofu took the scroll from the Amazon elder, a puzzled expression on his face. Then he held it up and scanned it. His eyes widened as he read the name of the spell, and he glanced briefly over at Ranma, who was watching him curiously. Then he scanned the rest of it, his eyes moving up and down quickly. It took a few minutes for him to read the whole thing. When he finished, he cleared his throat uneasily.

"Well," he said. Everybody leaned in closer, looking at him intently. "Yes. That's it then. Very good. So, Ranma, you know that all you have to do is think of Akane while Cologne lights the incense and recites the incantation. I guess we can get on with it." And with that, he went and sat against the wall between Nabiki and Ryoga. Cologne smiled.

Nabiki leaned over to the doctor. "And what was _that_ all about?" she whispered.

Tofu went to answer, but noticed that Ranma was watching him, the boy's eyebrows raised in confusion. "It's nothing, really," he said. "I'll tell you later."

Nabiki scowled. She was dying to know what that scroll said, and why Doctor Tofu was so reluctant to say anything. Still, he seemed to think it was okay to proceed with the spell, so that eased her fears a little. She felt better knowing that he knew what was going on and could make sure the old ghoul did it right.

"Are you ready?" Cologne asked Ranma. "Remember, you must think of nothing but Akane. You must focus on her totally, and let nothing distract you. Do you think you can do that?"

Ranma snorted. "Jeeze, whaddya think I've been _doing_ the past few days?!"

Cologne frowned, but nodded. "Very well. I will begin the spell." She walked over to Ranma and passed a withered hand over his eyes, making him blink his eyes shut. She pressed her fingers to his eyelids. "Keep your eyes closed," she said softly, "and concentrate."

Ranma swallowed and nodded silently.

Striking a long match so that it flared brightly in the growing gloom, Cologne leaned over and lit the circle of incense that surrounded Ranma. It began to smolder, sending wafts of spicy smoke through the room.

Ryoga fought the sudden urge to sneeze, pinching his nose and holding his breath until the itching sensation passed. His eyes watered, but he just blinked, and tried to ignore the burning. There was no way he was going to do anything that might prevent the spell from bringing Akane back...

He watched as the smoke from the incense thickened the air in the restaurant. Ranma sat in the circle, his eyes closed, his breathing focused, his expression one of intense concentration.

Cologne began to chant softly in Chinese.

Shampoo and Mousse strained to hear what Cologne was saying. Shampoo frowned in frustration. Great-grandmother's voice was so low, she could only make out the occasional word. _Is that the way the spell is supposed to be cast?_ Shampoo thought. _Or does she just not want Mousse and I to know what the spell says? Why would she relent and let Doctor Tofu know, and not me?_

Mousse, on the other hand, with his exceptional hearing, caught a lot more than just the occasional word. What he heard made his eyes go wide behind his glasses. Phrases like "true love," "forever binding," and "eternally linked, overcoming all barriers."

Mousse felt a slow half-smile grow on his face. No wonder the old ghoul had been so hesitant to tell anyone, _especially_ Ranma, about the true nature of the spell. From what he could gather from the crone's mumbling, the spell's power was based on True Love; more specifically, the True Love that existed between Ranma and Akane. The power of that link, combined with the magic of the spell, would draw Akane from wherever she had been sent and bring her back home.

No wonder Doctor Tofu didn't say anything when he read the spell. It seemed that _everybody_ knew of Ranma and Akane's true feelings for each other, except for Ranma and Akane. If Ranma knew the true nature of the spell -- that it was his unconfessed love for Akane that would bring her home -- his brain would probably freeze right there, sending him into a blind, stuttering panic of denial, and then everything would be ruined.

Mousse didn't think that, even if Akane's safe return was on the line, Ranma would be able to confess his true feelings. Especially in a room full of people, most of whom would want to kill him or, at the very least, beat the living daylights out of him over such a revelation. Besides, Akane had been in serious danger before and, although Ranma always came to her rescue without fail, he would _never_ admit that he even _liked_, let alone _loved_ her. Whenever it seemed as if he was about to say those three little words, they always turned out to be "macho uncute tomboy."

Still, if this spell succeeded, it could change everything...

Mousse leaned back against the wall, his arms folded over his chest, and smiled. No way was he going to do anything that might interfere in this spell. With Ranma and Akane back together, and the true nature of the spell revealed, Shampoo was practically his.

Cologne continued her low chant, and as the soft, barely audible words filled the air, the incense smoke began to curl and waft around Ranma. Ranma, his mind completely focused on Akane, didn't even notice as it slowly swirled around him, clinging to his skin like a living thing. He breathed it in through his nose, and as the smoke filled his head, the mental picture of Akane in his mind came into even sharper focus than before. It was like she was standing in front of him, so real, that he felt he could open his eyes and she would be standing there.

Then he frowned. There was something different about her. She seemed happy, and she was smiling in that way that made his heart flutter inside his chest, but that wasn't it. She was wearing unusual clothes, and her hair seemed longer than usual. That was odd, she'd only been gone three days... Some weird side-effect of the spell, perhaps? Oh well, it didn't matter, as long as it brought her back to him. Ranma felt a strange tingling fill his body, especially his heart...

--------------------

Akane was laughing at a funny story the Snow Woman told when suddenly her smile broke, and she doubled over in pain, her cup falling from nerveless fingers, splashing tea across the table.

"Akane! What's wrong?" Yuki-onna was immediately by her side.

"I -- I don't... know," Akane gasped, tears of pain streaming from her eyes. Her heart felt as though it was being pulled out through her back. There was a sudden, solid _wrench_, and Akane screamed as she felt herself being ripped asunder.

Yuki-onna grabbed Akane by the shoulders and focused all her magic on the girl, placing barriers around her, trying to protect her from whatever was trying to pull her apart. She concentrated on the blood spell in Akane's ki, fearing that it was the cause of her pain, and gasped.

The blood spell was flaring brightly, almost blindingly, especially the wisp of dragon blood that served as the transdimensional connection between Akane and her wretched fiance. Some magic in the mortal plane was trying to pull her home. But the blood spell was fighting back, refusing to let its captive go, and in the process, was killing Akane.

_Those _fools_!_ she thought, her white face a mask of both rage and concern as she poured her power into building protective barriers around Akane, trying desperately to block the mortal magic. _Don't they know that such a spell as this cannot hope to counteract the effects of a spell cast with dragon blood?!_ Her lips curled into a snarl. The boy Ranma was behind this, she just knew it. Even separated by dimensions, he still found a way to hurt Akane.

"Akane, hold on," she said as the girl cried out again. There had to be a way to stop the mortal spell completely...

The Snow Woman's frost-blue eyes lit with an idea. Swiftly, she summoned the last scrap of her power, and poured it into the magical barriers she'd placed around Akane, imbuing them with reflective properties, sending the spell back to the mortal plane...

_Heh_, she thought. _This will give that wicked boy a taste of his own medicine_. With her spell finally in place, Akane immediately collapsed in relief as pull on her body and soul abated.

Yuki-onna held Akane close as the girl trembled in reaction. "W-what was that?" she asked, frightened that the soul-wrenching pain might return. "What happened?"

The Snow Woman hushed her softly. "It's alright, my child, it's over. Don't worry about it."

But Akane wasn't in the mood to be comforted. Shakily, she pushed herself upright. "I _am_ worried about it," she said. "What if it happens again? What _was_ it, anyway? I felt like I was being ripped to--" She stopped short as she suddenly felt a strange, warm tingle fill her body, especially her heart. Her brown eyes widened in surprise...

--------------------

Cologne frowned. She had ceased chanting moments ago, but the spell didn't seem to be working. Akane should have returned by now. She glanced at Ranma. The boy was concentrating so hard that beads of sweat stood out on his brow. The others, still sitting against the wall, were beginning to fidget uncomfortably and cast nervous glances at each other. Her eyes narrowed. Could it be that she overestimated Ranma's feelings for Akane? The spell would only work with True Love...

If that was the case, then that meant Shampoo might still have a chance to win Ranma. Of course, if the spell didn't work, then Nabiki would play that damned tape and, True Love or no, Ranma wouldn't have anything to do with Shampoo after that.

Cologne began to sweat. The only other way she knew to get Akane back was by breaking the blood spell itself, and such a feat was far beyond her power...

Ranma sat in the silence, concentrating on Akane with all his heart, willing her to come back to him. But he knew, with a sinking sensation in his chest, that the spell hadn't worked. Maybe it was because he hadn't focused hard enough. Tears began to leak from his closed eyelids. _Akane_, he thought, fighting the sob that was rising in his throat, threatening to break loose, _please come back! I... I need you..._

The thought was cut off, and he flinched as a jolt of pain abruptly stabbed through his body. The image of Akane shattered in his mind, and his eyes flew open as wave after wave of tearing agony suddenly washed over him. He looked at Cologne, who was staring back at him in surprise, and opened his mouth, but the pain was so great, he couldn't make a sound; he simply collapsed onto his side, curled into a fetal position, trembling in pain and torment as he felt himself breaking apart, body and soul.

"Ranchan!" Ukyo leaped to her feet to run to Ranma's side, but Tofu jumped up and restrained her.

"Don't just rush into the middle of the spell," he said, holding her. "You might make things worse!" That stopped her but didn't erase the fear on her face. By this time, everyone was standing, just outside the spell boundaries, wanting to help, but not knowing what to do. Tofu looked at Ranma's ki. "The blood spell... Oh no.."

"What's happening?" demanded Nabiki, glaring at Cologne.

"I don't know!" Cologne was shaken, and everyone could tell. "I don't know what's causing this! Akane should be pulled here from wherever she's been sent--"

"The blood spell!" said Doctor Tofu. "The blood spell is fighting back! It's trying to keep Ranma and Akane apart! It won't allow the True Love spell to work!"

"The _WHAT_ spell?!" yelled Ukyo, Ryoga and Shampoo simultaneously.

Then Ranma began to fade out of existence.

"Great-grandmother!" Shampoo screamed, "_do_ something!"

Cologne hesitated only a moment. "Quickly!" she said to the others, "erase the symbols on the floor! You, lost boy! Open the door and the windows to air out the incense!" It was dangerous, so dangerous to mess with the spell elements while its power was still active, but she could see no other option to save Ranma.

Shampoo rushed to the kitchen and was back a moment later with dishtowels. Immediately, Tofu, Nabiki, Ukyo and Mousse were on their knees, rubbing away at the arcane symbols of the spell. Ryoga opened the doors and windows, and Cologne whirled her staff, creating a wind that blew the choking incense smoke from the room. Then they turned to the still fading form of the boy who had affected each of their lives so deeply, to see if their efforts had helped.

Ranma was completely transparent. He seemed to hover like a ghost on the edge of reality, curled on his side, his eyes clenched with pain. Then he opened his eyes and looked up, his gaze focusing on the air a few feet in front of him. Slowly, in spite of the agony that coursed through his being, he uncurled himself and reached out with an intangible arm. He opened his mouth and whispered a single, hoarse word.

"Akane...?"

--------------------

The Snow Woman looked at Akane in concern, as the girl broke off her sentence. "What is it? Are you alright?"

Akane didn't answer. She looked down at the back of her hands as the tingle throughout her body grew stronger. Her heart began to pound, not painfully as it had a few moments before, when she felt as if she was being ripped to shreds by some unknown force, but... almost in anticipation..?

A crackle of energy split through the room, causing her to jump in surprise.

The Snow Woman let out a startled gasp. "No! It can't be..." _My reflection spell! It's pulling him through the barrier instead of Akane!_

"What's happening?" asked Akane. She had experienced strange things since she had come to the Kami plane, but nothing like _this_...

Something began to appear on the floor a few feet away from her. She stepped away from it in alarm. What was it? A spirit? Was this another attack? In an instant, her katana was in her hand, blazing with blue ki, and she moved towards it.

"Wait! Akane, no!" Akane was startled by the urgency in the Snow Woman's voice, but didn't take her eyes off the slowly solidifying object.

"Don't worry, whatever it is, it won't..." She stopped, her voice catching in her throat. The ghostly image was a figure... a boy, curled on his side, as if in a terrible amount of pain. He was wearing black pants and a... red silk shirt...

Akane felt the blood drain from her face. The sword fell from her hand.

... dark hair, braided into a pigtail...

"R... Ranma?" Her voice was so soft, she thought she'd mouthed the word. But he seemed to hear her. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked at her.

His eyes! They were as blue and beautiful as she remembered, in spite of the pain that she saw reflected in them. An expression of indescribable happiness flickered across his face, fighting with the pain, and he slowly uncurled himself, reaching out a transparent arm towards her. "Akane..?"

Akane stumbled forward a few steps and sank to her knees. "Oh Ranma," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

She couldn't think of anything else to say. After all the hours and days and weeks she'd spent daydreaming of what she might say if she ever got to see Ranma again, she couldn't think of a single thing. Almost two whole years had gone by, and she had been so sure that Ranma had long since forgotten her and married one of his other fiancees...

"Akane..." The word was a gasp of pain, and both Ranma and Akane flinched at his agony. "I... I'm sorry..."

Akane began to sob quietly. "R-Ranma, _I'm_ s-sorry..."

Suddenly she remembered. The most important thing she wanted to tell him. "I'm sorry... I never told you that I l-love you..."

She looked at his ghostly form anxiously, expecting some type of off-the-cuff response, but was surprised to see Ranma looking at her in shock, his pain forgotten even though he was still torn between two planes of existence.

"Really?" he whispered.

Akane's throat closed off with a sob. She nodded vehemently.

His expression softened, and his eyes warmed with inner light. "Akane, I-- "

There was a crackle of energy, and Ranma's words choked into a strangled cry as the dimensional pull on his body suddenly reversed itself. He began to fade from Akane's sight the same way he appeared.

"Ranma!" she screamed. She was losing him again! She couldn't..! He had come for her, how could this be happening?!

Ranma looked up, tears of agony and despair streaming from his eyes as he felt himself being pulled back to the Nekohanten. "Akane," he choked through the pain. "W-where are you?"

"I'm in the Kami plane, Ranma!" She hoped he could understand her, she was crying so hard. "I'm with Yuki-onna, the Snow Woman!"

She could barely see the outline of his form. "I-I'll f-find you." His sobbing voice came to her as if from a great distance. "Akane..."

And he was gone.

A moment passed, and Akane heard footsteps behind her as the Snow Woman walked away, slowly, deliberately.

Akane sat, her arms wrapped around her knees, and shook with silent sobs.

--------------------

End of Part Eight


	10. Memory and Mayhem

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

-----------------------------

Hearts of Ice

Part 9: Memory and Mayhem

by Krista Perry

-----------------------------

Akane was in the Kami plane. Ranma now knew where she was, and a small spark of hope lanced through the despair that filled him as he felt himself painfully wrenched and twisted by the fighting spells -- one sending him to Akane's side, the other forcing the two of them apart.

He thought at first that perhaps Cologne's spell would win. He could see Akane; hear her. She had spoken to him and said words he thought he'd never hear. Words that filled him with an unexpected joy that overwhelmed the physical pain of being torn between two dimensions.

But suddenly, the tide turned and now the blood spell was winning. Akane's beautiful, tear-stained face was fading from his sight. _No!_ he thought fiercely, fighting to stay. But it was no use. Akane reached out to him, her face a pale mask of anguish. Her look of despair pierced Ranma to the heart.

"I-I'll f-find you." Ranma sobbed the promise with all his strength through the blinding pain that engulfed him. The blood spell was pulling him back, he was losing her again. He _couldn't_ lose her again! Not when he had found her! He reached out desperately. "Akane..."

And then, as quickly as it had come, the tearing, soul-wrenching pain left him. Ranma gasped and collapsed forward onto the floor of the Nekohanten.

He lay still for a moment, his chest heaving as he gulped air into his now-solid lungs. Then, slowly, shakily, as if afraid the shattering pain might return, he pushed himself up to his hands and knees. His head hung limply against his chest, and tears ran unheeded down his face to splatter lightly on the floor.

_Akane..._

Cologne, Tofu, and the others looked on in stunned silence. They had pulled Ranma back by nullifying the effects of the True Love spell, allowing the blood spell to once again pull him back through the dimensional barrier.

Now, watching Ranma, Tofu wondered if they'd done the right thing. The True Love spell had worked, albeit in reverse. Instead of summoning Akane to Ranma's side, Ranma had been pulled to her instead. They had all watched in amazed silence as a transparent Ranma spoke with an unseen, unheard Akane. Watching his suffering -- both physical as the dimensional forces threatened to tear him apart, and emotional as he lost Akane once again -- left each of them feeling hollow in a different way. Some in sympathy. Some in self-pity.

Ukyo didn't know what to feel. Tears ran down her cheeks as she moved hesitantly towards Ranma's shaking form. "R...Ranchan? Are... are you okay?"

"I saw her, Ucchan," he whispered, his eyes closed. "She was _right there_, in front of me, and I couldn't _do_ anything."

A small, almost silent sob escaped Ukyo's throat. She couldn't tell if it was because she hated seeing Ranchan suffer, or because, once again, she had seen him display unvoiced love...for Akane.

Shampoo stood numbly as she looked at Ranma. Mousse stood behind her. She could feel his myopic gaze on her back; could feel his almost tangible desire to reach out and comfort her. But he did nothing. Shampoo didn't know whether to feel relieved or... sad. Her eyes still burned from watching the scene that had unfolded a moment before; watching as her dreams of having strong, handsome Ranma as her willing husband crumble to dust. Her hands tingled, and her heart felt frozen in her chest.

Ryoga swallowed audibly and knelt down next to Ukyo. "So...so you talked to... to Akane?" he asked Ranma, not willing to think about... anything else. "Is she okay? What did she say?"

Ranma leaned back and sat on his heels, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, not meeting anyone's gaze. "She..."

_She told me that she... loves me._

_Akane _loves_ me._

The thought sent such a mixed surge of happiness and grief through him that his chest felt tight and the tears threatened again. He swallowed hard and turned to face the others.

"She told me where she is."

"_What?!_" Ryoga reached out and grabbed Ranma by the front of his shirt, his eyes wide and anxious. "Where?! Where is she?!"

Ranma didn't even react to Ryoga's manhandling. "She's in the Kami Plane," he said softly.

The room fell into stunned silence. Cologne's eyes went wide.

"The... Kami Plane?" whispered Ryoga, releasing Ranma's shirt.

Ranma nodded, but his eyes were unfocused as he stared past Ryoga's shoulder at nothing. "I have to find a way to get there..."

Unnoticed by all, Cologne's amazement dissolved into a slow, wicked smile. _The Kami Plane,_ she thought with a mental chuckle. _Well. Who would have thought that the blood spell would send her _there_. All may not be lost after all_. She cast a subversive glance at Nabiki, who was staring at Ranma in disbelief, and her eyes lit with triumph. _Akane is well and truly beyond their reach if she's in the Kami plane. And soon..._

"Ranma, I think I can help you," she said. Everyone turned to Cologne with hope on their faces, except for Nabiki. She regarded the crone with open hostility burning in her eyes.

_You didn't fulfill your part of the bargain, you old witch_, Nabiki thought, glaring directly at Cologne. _Not only that, but now I know you sent Akane to the _Kami Plane_. This had better be good, or you _know_ what the consequences will be._

Cologne simply nodded slightly, as if acknowledging the unspoken, yet clearly understood threat without any real worry.

Ranma looked at Cologne, his face serious. "Can you try and cast that spell again? It almost worked. I almost made it."

"Are you crazy, Ranchan?!" shouted Ukyo. "That thing almost killed you!"

Ranma looked at her and smiled slightly. "Aw, come on, Ucchan. You know I'm tougher than that."

"I'm afraid she's right," said Cologne. "The blood spell reacted much more violently to my magic than I thought it would. It's a good thing that the spell tried to send you instead of summoning Akane. She doesn't have your constitution, and might not have fared as well, even had we stopped the spell in time."

"I wonder why it did that," said Tofu, looking down at the smeared remnants of the spell on the floor. "Sending Ranma instead of bringing Akane."

"I'm not completely sure," answered Cologne, "but I suspect there was some interference from the Kami Plane."

Ranma's head jerked up. "Interference?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

Cologne frowned. "I mean that if Akane really is in the Kami Plane, some kind of spirit or demon may have altered the spell."

"What?!" yelled Ranma. He jumped to his feet and looked down at the old Amazon. "Whaddya mean 'demon?!'" Fear gripped his heart at the thought of Akane being in the hands of some evil supernatural entity. No _way_ could that clumsy slowpoke tomboy stand up to something like that!

Then he blinked in surprise, and the fear in his heart seemed to spread through his body. His eyes went wide in horror as realization hit him. "The Snow Woman," whispered Ranma, remembering Akane's last words to him.

"What was that?" asked Cologne.

Ranma didn't hear her. An image came to his mind, an image from his dream from the night before -- his dream of a ghastly white Akane freezing him to death, cold seeping from her long white fingers into his chest. His dream where, when he had forced the words "I love you" from his frozen lungs, she had changed. Changed into a strange white-skinned woman with flowing white hair and ice-blue eyes...

He had seen that same woman standing behind Akane.

_Oh no..._

Ryoga saw the look on Ranma's face, and felt a hard core of dread settle in his stomach. "What? What is it, Ranma? You know something, don't you?!"

"Akane," said Ranma, turning to face his rival as his voice rose in panic. "She's with some weird lady in the Kami Plane called the Snow Woman. I... I think she's a spirit or a demon or something."

"What?!" A faint flicker of blue-green ki began to glow around Ryoga's form. Ukyo, Mousse, Shampoo and the others began to back away from him in alarm. "Ranma! How could you leave Akane in the hands of a demon?!"

Ranma's eyes sparked with anger, his own ki blazing in response. "Hey, pig-boy! I didn't have much of a choice! You guys were the ones who screwed up the spell on this end, remember?" He gestured to the smeared floor. "I didn't _want_ to leave her!" he yelled, his throat thickening. Ranma began to tremble with emotion, and his eyes moistened as the ache of grief joined his anger. His fists clenched at his sides, and his ki burned bluer than Ryoga's.

"I didn't _WANT_ to leave her!!"

The force of Ranma's emotion made Ryoga blink in surprise, and he realized he had overstepped his boundaries. He took a step back in shock as he recognized a despair equal to if not greater than his own in his rival's face. "H-hey, Ranma, I... I didn't mean..."

Fortunately, Tofu stepped in before Ranma could incinerate them all with a Shishi Houkodan. "Hey, none of that!" he said firmly, stepping forward, yet not quite between the two combatants. "Ranma, Ryoga, settle down. I know you're both very upset. We all are. But now is not the time or place for a fight." He stood there, his hands gesturing for peace, looking Ranma in the eyes, practically willing the boy to calm down.

Ranma returned the gaze, trembling in anger, his brow furrowed over glistening eyes as he fought back tears. But Tofu was like Kasumi in that it was difficult to refuse either of them anything. Finally, Ranma relaxed slightly and blinked, the glow of his ki fading.

Tofu breathed a sigh of relief that was echoed by the others in the room, especially Ryoga. "That's better," he said. "Now what was it that you said before? Did you say Akane was with the Snow Woman?" Tofu raised his eyebrows inquisitively. "Not the Snow Woman from the old fairy tales?"

Ranma looked at him blankly. His father hadn't read many fairy tales to him while he was growing up on the road. He drew a shaky breath and tried to focus himself as he fought to reign in his emotions. "I don't know," he replied at last, "but I think I saw her. She had really white skin and long white hair. She was standing behind Akane."

_And... I think she tried to kill me last night,_ he added silently, not wanting to voice that particular fear. After all, it was only a dream, right? Surely he would have been able to tell if he'd actually nearly frozen to death during the night. He turned to Cologne. "You said you can help me. If we can't do that spell again, isn't there something else you can do? Do you know how to get me to the Kami Plane?"

Cologne glanced at Nabiki from the corner of her eye. The Tendo girl had her arms folded severely across her chest, and her expression was full of the unspoken threat she had every intention of fulfilling if Cologne didn't do everything possible to save her sister. Cologne closed her eyes briefly.

This would have to be good.

She raised her head and looked at Ranma. "There is an ancient treasure among my people known as the Eye of Spirit, or Eye of Kami. It is a stone of great power which has been passed down through our tribe since the time of the first Amazon. Its power is such that it may be able to overcome the blood spell and send you to the Kami Plane to retrieve Akane safely."

Ranma blinked. So did Shampoo. She'd never heard of any "Eye of Kami" before... What was great-grandmother up to?

"Why didn't you say so?" said Ranma anxiously. "Let's go get it!"

"Unfortunately, it's in China." Cologne turned and met Nabiki's narrowed gaze. "And I must retrieve it alone," she said before Ranma had the chance to start an expedition. Both Ranma and Ryoga deflated at her words.

"The other elders of the tribe will not be happy to relinquish such a sacred treasure into my care to help outsiders, but I believe I can persuade them. Give me five days. Five days and I will return with the stone. Then we will get Akane back."

"Five days?!" Ranma groaned. Who knew what horrible things the Snow Woman would do to Akane in five days?

"I'm sorry, Ranma." Cologne once again glanced at Nabiki, who looked _slightly_ mollified, yet still angry. "If I can be back sooner, I will. In the meantime, you must be patient."

Ranma grit his teeth. Patience had never been his strong suit.

--------------------

"Five days," said Nabiki. She stood outside the doors of the Nekohanten in the cool spring evening and gazed at the old ghoul with barely subdued fury. The others had left a few minutes earlier, since it seemed nothing else could be done. Mousse and Shampoo were inside cleaning up the smeared spell mess on the floor. "That's it. If you're not back in five days, Ranma hears the tape. And if this so-called 'Eye of Kami' doesn't work, Ranma hears the tape. This is your last chance."

Cologne's mouth twitched into a slight half smile. "And what if, by some chance, it _does_ fail? You play the tape for Ranma, and poor Akane is still trapped in the Kami Plane without any way to save her."

Nabiki smirked. "I think it's a pretty safe guess after what we saw tonight that Ranma will never give up until he finds a way to bring Akane back. If you can't do it, we'll find someone who can. As I said before, it doesn't matter to me whether or not Ranma hears that tape. I don't care if he hates you and Shampoo or not. He's a big boy, he can take care of himself."

Cologne blinked.

Nabiki leaned forward and looked down at the withered Amazon. "Five days. This is your last chance to stay on Ranma's _good_ side. After that, if Akane's not back, you can wave goodbye to... well, mortal existence probably. After his demonstration this evening, I'd place the odds 50 to 1 that Ranma could produce a depression ki blast that would make anything Ryoga's done look like a measly firecracker."

Cologne nodded, much to Nabiki's surprise. "You're quite right," she replied. "Which is why you should believe me when I tell you that when I come back in five days, you will be _much_ happier. I expect you will then fulfill your end of our little bargain, and take all the necessary precautions to make sure Ranma never finds out that Shampoo and I were responsible for the blood spell." She smiled. "I have no intention of giving up on Son-in-law just yet."

Nabiki's eyes narrowed. "Fine," she said, even though something in her gut told her something was wrong, that she was missing something. But what? She'd examined all the loopholes thoroughly... "Just be sure you don't try to pull anything. Any sign of anything out of the ordinary, and--"

"Yes, yes, and Ranma hears the tape." Cologne sighed. "Fear not, Nabiki Tendo. You will be pleased when I come back from China."

"I hope so. For your sake." Nabiki favored Cologne with one last half-lidded glare before turning and heading for home.

Cologne watched her go.

A minute later, a sullen, confused Shampoo came out and joined her in front of the restaurant. Cologne motioned with her staff, and then they were jumping along the rooftops, leaving Nerima district behind.

Ten minutes later they returned. Cologne gave the girl some brief instructions on how to handle the business while she was gone. Then, without fuss or fanfare, she left for China.

Shampoo went back into the restaurant, smiling from ear to ear.

--------------------

Unforgivable. Death was too good for him.

Yuki-onna stood in front of her frosted mirror gazing at the object of her hatred as he entered the dojo and began performing difficult katas with intense ferocity. Her frost-blue eyes narrowed.

Yes, he was frustrated. He had come so close...

_Too close..._

The boy's feelings paled in comparison to what _she_ felt. She had come so far with Akane. Akane _liked_ it here, liked being with her. True, she had yet to forget... that boy... but she had been almost happy...

And now he had ruined it all. Akane would never be content to stay knowing that _he_ was looking for her. Not as long as that blasted wisp of dragon blood connected them, at least.

She was getting closer to removing it. After almost two years of daily work, she was finally feeling a weakening in the blood spell. It wouldn't be long now...

But it might not be soon enough. Especially if the boy intended to live up to his parting promise.

Yuki-onna frowned. Something must be done about him. He needed to be dealt with; eliminated from the picture... somehow. And he needed to be punished for Akane's pain. Yet she couldn't kill him. If she did, Masakazu would know, and then...

But... there _were_ fates worse than death.

All she had to do was find one that was... appropriate.

Yuki-onna reached out her hands and placed them on either side of the image showing in her mirror. This was the present, the "now" of the mortal plane.

"Back..." she whispered, and her icy breath flowed across the reflective surface.

Ranma's image froze in mid-movement. Then, slowly, the frost swirling with magic, the image began to move again. But this time in reverse. Slowly, eerily, Ranma performed his fluid katas backwards, his jumps and flips smooth and faultless and seemingly without impact so that it was almost impossible to tell that time was moving in the opposite direction.

"Faster," she breathed. "Show me the past. Show me _his_ past that I may find a punishment suitable for his crimes against my little Akane-chan."

The image blurred and sped up, moving faster and faster. Yuki-onna pressed her white palms against the frosted glass and closed her eyes, seeing the images in her mind with a hundred times the clarity of her eyes.

Ranma, reaching out for Akane as the blood spell pulled him back...

Ranma, glowing with red ki amidst the shattered ruin of the Nekohanten door as he screamed Cologne's name in fury...

"Further," she whispered. "Before the blood spell."

Ranma, running along the top of a fence while Akane ran next to him on the sidewalk. He calls her a cruel name and she sends him flying into the drainage ditch to emerge a moment later as a red-headed woman...

Yuki-onna smiled. Akane had told her of his Jusenkyo curse, of course. It was amusing to say the least. Perhaps she could use it to her advantage as part of his punishment. "Further," she whispered.

Images of Ranma's life flashed before her. Ranma sleeping, eating, fighting. The entire fiancée fiasco. Her fury grew as she saw how this boy not only made Akane suffer, but other women as well. The lonely girl, Ukyo. The desperate Shampoo, and even the crazed Kodachi.

Even the boy's own mother. Tears of ice slid down Yuki-onna's face as she witnessed how desperately Ranma's mother wanted to see him, to love him. And yet he spurned that love, mocked it by hiding in female guise right in front of her; enjoying the pleasure of her company, yet denying her the joy and comfort that would come with the revelation that he was her son. The tears Ranma's mother shed for her lost son, not knowing he was mocking her grief right in front of her, pierced Yuki-onna to the heart.

_How dare he..._

"Back..." she choked.

Time sped backwards in her mirror.

She witnessed Ranma's encounter with Herb. Yes, being trapped as a female certainly seemed to cause the boy enough anguish. That was a definite possibility, yet still didn't seem like quite enough justice for her tastes.

She reached out with her mind as Ranma's life rewound itself in her mind's eye, reaching out with tendrils of magic, amplifying the images to include emotions, trying to sense his greatest moments of anguish or pain or... fear...?

She paused. _There_ was something interesting. She had only sensed a brief flicker or two of real fear from Ranma as his life sped past, but _here,_ in his early youth, was a concentrated clump of sheer terror. Her mouth quirked at the corner. "Show me," she whispered. "From the beginning."

-----------------

A young Ranma, not more than 10 years old, knelt in front of his father in a dojo.

"Ranma, today I will train you in the secret art of the invincible Cat Fist. The Nekoken."

The child Ranma looked up, his blue eyes puzzled. Cats? What was so special about cats? Oh well. Pop was always teaching him strange new techniques.

"Stand up, Ranma. Hold out your arms. Good."

"What are you doing, Pop?" Ranma wrinkled his nose as his dad pulled out a length of fish sausage from a package he'd bought earlier.

"Just hold still while I tie this around you, son."

Ranma looked at his dad, disgusted. "What good is this gonna do?" he asked.

"Trust me, son. This is going to help teach you one of the most powerful techniques in all of the martial arts."

Ranma's eyes went wide. "Really? Wow! How does it work?"

Genma spun Ranma around and picked him up by the scruff of his gi. It was then that Ranma noticed the open trap door in the floor. "Huh? Pop, whaaaAAAHH!!" Ranma yelled as his father flung him into the dark hole.

He landed on something soft. It let out an inhuman screech that pierced his hearing. Startled, he leaped into the air, but not before he felt the pain of claws raking the flesh of his arm, leaving hot bleeding wounds in its wake. Shocked, he landed on his feet, only to have the experience repeated. He jumped in panic, landing on more cats, who began biting and clawing in defense.

"Ouch! Aughh!" Ranma looked up to see his father looking down at him from the square of light of the trap door above him. "P-pop, get me out! The cats are -- ow! -- biting me!"

Genma looked at him for a moment. Then he closed the trap door, leaving Ranma in a writhing cat-filled darkness.

Ranma stared at the ceiling in disbelief. "Pop?" He wasn't actually going to _leave_ him down here, was he? He stood perfectly still, his eyes straining to see in the absolute darkness, afraid to move for fear of tripping and falling on a cat again. "Daddy?"

But soon his fear of not moving was moot. The cats, catching the scent of the fish sausage, began to converge on him.

He couldn't see them, but he could hear them yowling as they pressed against his legs. The cats fought and hissed and climbed over each other, raking Ranma's bare feet with their claws as they began to devour the sausage around his legs. They reached up with their clawed paws to get a better purchase on him in an attempt to reach the first food they'd been given in days.

Ranma's dark-blinded eyes widened in fear. "Ow!" Claws and teeth dug deep into his skin and he stumbled back at the sharp pain, falling onto his rump. The cats swarmed around him then, jumping onto his chest, clawing and biting indiscriminately at the sausage he was bound with, the haste of starvation fueling the fury of their hunger.

"D-daddy!" he called. He knew it was unmanly to be scared, but there were so many of these cats, and it was so dark, but he could _feel_ them, and their inhuman yowls surrounded him and filled his ears as they nibbled at his flesh and scratched at his arms and face, and why did his father throw him down here to be eaten, didn't he want him anymore, was he a failure as a student, why wasn't he answering and opening the door to get him out...?

"Daddy, p-please!" the little boy called desperately as he was slowly buried under a living mound of hissing and yowling and scratching. His voice rose in desperate panic. "Please! L-let me out!"

But his father didn't answer. And soon the fish sausage was all eaten, but the cats were still hungry, and the scent of fish was all over him, and the cats clawed and fought and bit in frustration...

Ranma lay trembling, his arms thrown protectively over his eyes, blood seeping from hundreds of scratches and bites all over his body. He didn't know how long he lay there, sobbing quietly, until his father finally opened the trap door to pull him out.

"Well." His father held him in front of him, cleansing his wounds with stinging antiseptic. "You learn anything?" He looked narrowly at Ranma's puffy red eyes and sunken expression. "What's wrong with you, boy? You're supposed to be learning the Cat-Fist down there! Don't tell me you just curled up in a corner and cried?!"

"I couldn't see," Ranma answered quietly. "And there were... so many of them..."

"Feh! That's no excuse! I'm ashamed of you, boy. How can you be the heir of the Saotome School of Indiscriminate Grappling Martial Arts if you --"

Just then, a cat, who had somehow managed to escape the pit, walked into the dojo.

Ranma gasped and cringed away, the fire of his wounds flaring in both body and mind.

Genma scowled as he looked back and forth between the cat and his son. "So that's the way it is, eh? Well, no son of mine is going to be afraid of a silly thing like a cat!"

Ranma looked at the floor, his face flushing with humiliation.

And so it was that he didn't protest when his father tied him with dried sardines the next day.

The cats converged a few moments after he hit the floor, their eyes glowing like demonic lamps in the light from the trap door just before it slammed shut above him, sealing him in darkness. Then the yowling and the hissing and the hot fire of sharpened claws doused his spark of determination to not be afraid. Ranma cried in fear and pain.

The next day, Ranma stood before his father, trying to hide his trembling. "Please, daddy, don't throw me in again. I... I promise, I'm not scared of cats no more."

"Good. Then you won't mind another go at it. You'll master that Cat-Fist yet, boy."

The next day, Ranma couldn't hide his trembling. Tears streamed from his eyes uncontrollably, and he tried to push them back with his hands, ashamed at his weakness. His father stood over him, glowering in disapproval. "P-please, daddy," he cried. "I don't wanna go in the pit again. The cats, t-they --"

"Look at yourself, boy! I didn't raise you to be a sniveling coward! Now you're going down there, and you're not coming out until you learn to master your fear! Or the Cat-Fist, whichever comes first. Now go!" And with a shove, Genma pushed his son back into the pit.

By this time, the cats knew that food was coming. Ranma was covered with clawing, biting felines before he even hit the floor. The door slammed shut above him, leaving him in darkness with the terror and the pain, and no hope of getting out any time soon. These cats were demons who wanted to claw his eyes out, who wanted to eat his flesh down to the bone. They would devour him before he ever learned the Cat-Fist...

His father would never let him out. He was trapped there forever. There was no escape...

No escape...

**Frightened, boy?** The words were a low growling hiss in his mind. Ranma was too terrified to open his eyes. But he found he didn't need to open his eyes to see the Shadowcat that had just appeared in the room. The supernatural animal glowed with black ki and padded silently towards him through the thick mass of yowling, hissing cats that were trying to tear him to pieces.

If the cats were demons, then this was their master.

**You dare try to learn the Cat-Fist, eh? For that there is a price. You have _almost_ paid it. Your delicious fear has summoned me to collect the rest. Just a bit more now...**

The Shadowcat reached out with a paw and extended its needle-sharp claws. Ranma saw them coming towards his face, even with his eyes clenched shut, even with his arms thrown over his face. A terrified whimper escaped his throat.

**Good. Just a bit more...**

"D-daddy! Help m-me!"

No answer.

The Shadowcat's claws flashed out towards his face.

Ranma screamed. And kept screaming.

**Yessss.** The Shadowcat rumbled in contentment. **That's the sound I like to hear. Now just one more thing.** The Shadowcat leaned over and pressed its forehead against Ranma's.

As the Shadowcat's forehead touched his own, something in Ranma's young mind snapped. His eyes flew open and glazed over. And his scream turned into a yowl.

The Shadowcat chuckled; a strange purring growl. **There now, all done. Enjoy my... gift.** The words entered Ranma's uncomprehending mind as the Shadowcat faded away, returning to the netherworld.

Genma sat quietly in a lotus position just outside the trap door, burning with shame as he listened to his son whimpering below. Oh, that this should happen, after all his dedication and hard work in training the boy. He heard his son's begging pleas to be pulled out, but he ignored them. For his son's own good.

Then Ranma began to scream. Genma's eyes flew open, and he moved towards the trap door. But no... He hesitated. If he pulled his son out now, how would Ranma ever learn to overcome his fears? He couldn't allow Ranma to believe that his father would be there to save him every time something got a little scary...

Genma froze in shock as he heard Ranma's voice change from a cry of terror to an inhuman yowling, like an animal in pain.

"Ranma!" Without another thought, he threw open the trap door.

Ranma burst through the opening in a single leap, still yowling, and landed on all fours. The boy turned, hissing, to face Genma, who knelt about ten feet away.

Genma paled. Ranma's hair stood on end and there was a wildness glinting like a high fever in his eyes. An inhuman growl issued from his throat. He raised a hand, curled paw-like, and swiped in the direction of his father from across the room.

Genma gasped in pain as he felt his clothes and the flesh beneath shred with the force of Ranma's casual bat of the hand. He collapsed backwards onto the floor, the air knocked out of him as well. _The Cat Fist! He did it! But... what has happened to him?! My son..!_ He raised himself up on one elbow to see Ranma fleeing with unnatural speed on all fours out the window. "Ranma! Wait!"

But his son was gone.

He grunted as he pushed himself painfully to his feet, and noticed that he was bleeding through the gashes on his arms and chest. _I have to find Ranma..._

Blocks away, Ranma curled himself up on the branch of a tree. He was shaking, and his heart thumped swiftly in his chest. His mind seemed incapable of forming words, but feelings and instincts overwhelmed him, and he knew he had to get away -- get away from the source of his fear and pain.

Pain. He hurt. He was covered all over in scratches and bites. He looked, listened, smelled. The big cruel one was nowhere around. He was safe. Feeling a little more secure, he carefully, methodically began to clean the wounds on his paws and forelegs with his tongue.

"Here now, boy, what are you doing in my tree?" Akemi Fujisami brushed a strand of grey hair from her eyes with a wrinkled hand as she stood on her back porch looking up into the branches of her huge shade tree. "Come down this instant."

The boy, who didn't look a day over ten, was wearing a tattered, blood-stained white gi. He looked down at her through the leaves from his odd position, and she could see that his face and arms were covered with bloody scratches.

Akemi gasped. The black of his pupils and the blue of his irises seemed small and lost in the wild whiteness that filled his eyes. He blinked at her. Then he went back to calmly licking his curled fingers.

"Oh my," she said. The old woman peered at him with wide eyes. Her husband had been a great martial artist before he passed away. Because of him, she had seen things, heard things in her lifetime... _Could it be..? But no, that's just a legend. And who would do such a thing to a child?_

She looked at him piercingly and frowned. _Still..._

She went inside and emerged a moment later with a bowl of cream. She set it on the porch, and looked back up at the young dark-haired boy. Clearing her throat a little in embarrassment, she reached out a beckoning hand. "Here kitty kitty," she called softly. "Come on now. I've got some cream for you. Here kitty kitty."

Ranma paused, blinked at her, then continued his task.

Akemi realized that he wouldn't come down until he was finished, and quite possibly would simply wait until she left. Sighing, she went inside the house and slid the screen door closed. Then she sat on the other side of the door and waited patiently.

Ranma watched cautiously as the strange big one went into the house. After a few minutes, he leaped softly to the grass below and padded carefully to the porch, sniffing the bowl. The white liquid smelled good, and his stomach hurt with hunger. He began to lap it up.

The door slid open, and Ranma tensed and paused. It was the strange big one. She slowly reached out a hand. "Easy now," she cooed. "Nice kitty. I'm not going to hurt you." Her voice was soothing, relaxing, her body language carefully non-threatening as she knelt next to him. Ranma relaxed and continued to lap at the cream.

He didn't even flinch when she cautiously stroked his head. It felt good. He nuzzled against her hand and began to purr.

Akemi stifled a gasp. Human vocal cords weren't designed to make the sound this boy was making. And yet he was doing it. This was definitely unnatural... She drew her hand away in alarm.

The boy looked at her, cream dripping from his chin, and meowed. It sounded almost like a question, as if he was wondering why she stopped.

She smiled. In spite of her misgivings, she reached out again to stroke his head, and he arched his back in pleasure, rubbing up against her side. She laughed lightly. "Hmm. Looks to me like someone is a little starved for affection."

She gasped a little in surprise as he suddenly climbed into her lap and curled up. Tucking his arms and legs under him, he took one paw-like hand and began to wash the cream from his face.

She grinned, increasing the smile wrinkles on her face. He was a cute boy. She could tell that he would be a real heart-breaker when he grew up.

If he ever regained his senses, that is.

Her smile turned sad. "How do I snap you out of this, child?" she whispered. "You can't stay like this forever." She sat quietly, stroking his hair as he purred in her lap, his eyes closed in contentment. She began to hum absently, and eventually she felt the boy's breathing deepen as he fell asleep.

Her legs began to tingle from kneeling so long with the weight of the boy in her lap. She sighed and shifted her position, trying to get comfortable. Her movement woke up her young visitor.

Ranma blinked groggily. _That's weird_, he thought. _I don't remember falling asleep._ He yawned hugely, then heard a soft chuckle. It was then, as he looked around, that he realized that he had no idea where he was. Or why he was kneeling on an old woman's lap.

"Gahh!" he yelled, backpedaling off the woman's lap and tumbling off the back porch, landing hard on his rump.

Akemi smiled in relief as she saw the boy's eyes, large and blue, the wildness replaced with confusion. His fingers were splayed on the grass rather than curled into paws.

"Welcome back to humanity," she said wryly.

"Huh?" Ranma blinked. "Where am I? Who are you?" He looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings and frowned. "How did I get here?" he asked.

"You don't remember anything?" Akemi asked.

Ranma shook his head as he looked at her, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Then he paused. "I remember..." A shadow passed over his face and he shuddered. "...cats," he finished.

Akemi nodded. "I thought so." She stood and bowed deeply. "I am Fujisami Akemi. You are a welcome guest in my home."

Ranma blinked again in shock as he tried to comprehend what was going on. Plus, no one had ever bowed like that to him before. He got to his feet and bowed back. "I am Saotome Ranma," he said.

Akemi smiled. Such a sweet boy. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. It appears you have been studying the Nekoken."

"How did you know?" Ranma looked at her with wide eyes.

"Your battle scars, for one thing," she replied, "and as for the other--"

"Rannmaaaa!" The call was faint, as if from a block or so away.

Ranma jumped in his skin, as if caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. "It's my Pop," he said, glancing guiltily at Akemi. "I'm sorry, I... I gotta go." And with an agility that surprised her, he leaped to the lowest branch of her tree, a good 10 feet off the ground, and clambered over to the wall that surrounded her house.

"Ranma, wait," said Akemi.

He paused, looking back at her.

_Stay with me,_ she wanted to say. _I'll take care of you better than he can._ Instead, she took a deep breath and smiled. "Remember where I live," she said. "Tell your father about me, and let him know that if he ever has trouble with... with the Nekoken, that I can help him. You promise you'll tell him for me?"

Ranma didn't understand the strange request, but he smiled at the old woman. "Okay," he said. "I promise. Domo arigato, Fujisami-san!" And with that, he disappeared over the wall.

---------------

The Snow Woman let her hands fall from the mirror to her sides, the images and feelings from Ranma's past fading from her mind.

This... This was _interesting_. Definitely priceless knowledge.

Link or no link... Perhaps there was a way to make Ranma forget Akane after all...

--------------------

"Hey, Ryoga! Wake up!"

Ryoga clenched his eyes shut and groaned. "Go away, Ranma. It's too early. It's not even light out yet."

Ranma snorted and unzipped the front flap of the tent to stick his head in. "Since when have you been concerned about getting beauty sleep, Mister I-can-walk-across-an-entire-continent-and-not-realize-it-because-I-don't-get-tired? Besides, it's not like you've never gotten _me_ up in the middle of the night to fight."

Ryoga sighed heavily and sat up. "Fine, Ranma. I'll spar with you. And then tonight I'll borrow some sleeping potion from Kodachi and drug your food so that you'll sleep through the night. Got it?"

Ranma scowled. "Not funny, Ryoga."

"Who's trying to be funny? Come on. Maybe if I beat you unconscious I can get some decent sleep."

Ranma chuckled. "Not likely."

Then he frowned. He _did_ feel slightly guilty for waking Ryoga in the middle of the night. It certainly wasn't Ryoga's fault that he wasn't sleeping well. It was just that whenever he fell asleep he would have... such horrible nightmares...

Some were about Akane. He would see the look on her face as he was pulled away from her, hear her crying out his name in desperation, see the glint of cold, shimmering light on her tears as she reached out for him...

He always woke from those nightmares finding himself tangled up in the blankets, his eyes red and swollen, and his pillow soaked through.

Not all dreams were just about Akane, though. Sometimes he would dream of the cold, emotionless face of the Snow Woman as she stood behind Akane, looking at him with thinly-veiled hate in her eyes...

Ranma shuddered slightly.

But what woke him up this night was not a dream about Akane or the strange Snow Woman. Tonight he dreamed about... cats. Two huge cats with fur the color of fresh blood, both with red eyes and gaping, fang-filled mouths, each yowling with blood thirst as they leaped at him...

Ranma stood frozen in terror, unable to move but to throw his arms over his face and wait for the feel of their claws and teeth in his skin...

Yet nothing happened. And when he found the courage to look up, he saw the cats, clawing and scratching ineffectually at an invisible barrier a foot or so away from him.

At the base of the barrier lay a single feather, the color of burnt umber.

Relieved, yet still unnerved by the sight of the cats, Ranma cautiously stooped to pick up the feather to examine it. There seemed something... familiar about it...

Then his blood froze, and the feather fell from numb fingers, his eyes widening in horror. One of the cats had stopped clawing at the invisible barrier. It pressed its face against the barrier and began to... _push_. Slowly, as if it were moving through clay, it began to squeeze itself through. After a moment, the other cat imitated its companion, pressing its face against and pushing through the only thing that separated it from its intended prey.

Terrified beyond words, Ranma looked for a place to run, but found he couldn't move. He could only watch helplessly as the blood cats slowly worked their way through the barrier...

"Well, Ranma? You just gonna stand there, or are we gonna fight?"

Ranma blinked and realized that he had walked into the dojo without realizing it. Ryoga stood across from him, crouched in a ready stance.

"Jeeze, Ranma, you're really out of it. I'm gonna wipe the floor with you."

"Heh. You wish." Ranma shook his head, forcing the dream from his mind, and dropped into an attack stance. This is what he woke Ryoga up for in the first place. To fight. And forget...

At some unseen signal, the young men attacked each other simultaneously. There was a flurry of mid-air kicks and punches, and Ryoga was sent flying into the dojo wall.

Ranma grinned as he landed lightly. "Come on, Ryoga. That was pathetic. I know you can do better than that."

Ryoga staggered to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth. "Shut up, Ranma. I'm still half asleep anyway. I don't see why you have to take it out on me just because you can't handle waiting another two days for Cologne to get back from China."

Ranma glared hard at his friend/rival. He sure was acting casual about the whole situation... "Well, I don't see how you can sleep at all, _P-Chan_, especially knowing that Akane's in trouble, and there's nothing we can do about it!"

Ryoga bristled at the "P-Chan" remark and was about to retaliate, when suddenly he paused and blinked.

"Who?"

Ranma froze. He stared at Ryoga in disbelief.

"What did you say?"

Ryoga gave Ranma a puzzled look and scratched his head. "Well, you said... _Who_ is in trouble?"

"Who do you think, idiot?! _Akane's_ in trouble! I would think that you of all people would be worried about her!"

Understanding suddenly lit in Ryoga's eyes. "Oh," he said. "_That_ Akane. That girl that the spell voices put into your head, right?" He cast a sympathetic look at Ranma. "Look, Ranma, I know this is hard to believe, but there _is_ no Akane. That's just the blood spell talking. Just concentrate, you'll remember."

Ranma's blue eyes flashed. A sick feeling was building in his stomach. "That's not funny, Ryoga," he said hoarsely.

Ryoga held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not trying to _be_ funny, Ranma! What's with you tonight, anyway?" Suddenly his brow furrowed in concern. "The spell voices... Have they come back? Is that why you're so worked up?"

"No," Ranma snapped irritably, "that's not it, I..." _Wait..._ Ranma paused as the image of two blood-red cats pushing through an invisible wall came into his mind. _Spell voices..._

Suddenly, a sharp, blinding pain lanced through Ranma's head. "Ungggh..." Ranma clutched at his temples and sank to his knees.

"Ranma! Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"R... Ryoga..." he gasped. He cried out as another blinding pain, worse than the first, threatened to split his head in two. And then...

--------------------

And then he stood, facing the barrier. The cats were almost all the way through, yowling and screeching in delight.

He held out his shaking hands, palms outward. "N-no," he stammered in fear. "G-go away, I don't want you in my head again!"

The cats kept coming.

--------------------

Ryoga watched in shock as Ranma crumpled to the floor, clutching his head in agony.

"Ranma!" Ryoga stood, looking on helplessly, not knowing what to do to ease his friend's pain. The spell voices were back. That _had_ to be it. Ranma had been acting so strange the past couple of days, he suspected that the spell voices were working their way back from wherever they'd disappeared to. Ever since Cologne had left for China to get that stone to remove the blood spell, Ranma's behavior had become more and more erratic...

"N-no," Ranma moaned from the floor, rocking back and forth in pain. "G-go away, I don't want you in my head again..."

That did it. Ryoga ran for the house. "Kasumi-san! Nabiki-san!"

He burst into the house just as the girls stepped groggily from their rooms. Nabiki looked down the stairs at Ryoga. "What is it, Ryoga-kun? This had better be good. It's not even 3 a.m."

"It's Ranma. He and I were sparring in the dojo and he collapsed. I... I think the spell voices are back."

"What?!" shouted Nabiki, heading quickly down the stairs."And you just _left_ him there?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Ryoga snapped back. "Stand there and do nothing?"

A hand flew to Kasumi's cheek. "Oh dear! I'll call Doctor Tofu."

Genma-panda stuck his head out of his bedroom door and held up a sign. [What's going on?] But no one was there to answer him.

--------------------

With twin screeches of glee, the blood-spell cats leaped free from the barrier that had confined them for too long. Without pausing, they leaped straight for Ranma's face.

Ranma screamed as, with an explosion of pain, the cats passed ghostlike into his head.

And the whispering began again, increasing in intensity...

**Akane is alive Akane is alive Akaneisalive Akaneisaliveakaneisaliveakaneis...**

**You'll never see her again, you're doomed to fail, you already have, you should give up you'll never see her again you're doomed to fail you already haveyoushouldgive upyou'llneverseeheragainyou'redoomedtofailyoualreadyhave...**

"NO!!!"

--------------------

Ranma bolted upright, clutching his head as the dark, thick spell voices filled his mind once again.

"Ranma!" Nabiki was there, grasping his shoulders to steady him.

Ryoga knelt on the other side. "Hang in there, Ranma. Doctor Tofu's on his way."

Ranma clenched his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut as he struggled for focus. The spell voices were back, but he'd controlled them once before so that they weren't so overwhelming. He could do it again, if he could just...

There. He found his center. He forced himself to relax, and as he did, he concentrated on pushing the spell voices to the back of his mind, where he'd held them until they'd mysteriously disappeared a few days ago.

The spell voices retreated reluctantly. If Ranma were unconscious or asleep, they would have been able to find greater purchase against his will. But with him awake, using all his martial arts ability to focus his will, they were pushed slowly to the back of his mind until they were but a low, constant murmur.

Ranma slowly opened his eyes. He was drenched in sweat. Nabiki and Ryoga were watching him in concern.

"Hey," said Ryoga. "You okay?"

Ranma nodded shakily and swallowed. "I guess you were right, Ryoga. The spell voices are back. But I think I've got them under control again."

Nabiki sank back on her heels and sighed. "That's a relief. You had us going there for a moment, Ranma." She cocked a critical eyebrow at him. "Do me a favor and don't do that again, okay?"

Ranma pushed himself to his feet. "Yeah, sure." He sighed heavily. "I just wish Cologne would get back with that Eye of Kami so I can go get Akane back. Then maybe these stupid spell voices wouldn't be so damn annoying."

Ryoga and Nabiki cast nervous glances at each other.

"Akane?" asked Nabiki.

Ryoga shrugged helplessly. "Don't look at me, Nabiki-san. I figured that she's the girl the blood spell put in his head. You know, the one that was supposed to get him to hate Shampoo?"

"Ah." Nabiki nodded understandingly. "So her name's Akane, is it? That's new."

Ranma stood frozen, looking back and forth between the two. Then his eyes narrowed to slits of blue fire. "This had better be your idea of a sick joke, you guys," he said in a low voice.

Nabiki looked at him, startled. Then her expression went grim. "Hmm," she said, looking Ranma in the eyes. "Looks like the spell voices really came back with a vengeance. You'd better work harder on pushing them back, Saotome. That is if you don't want everyone thinking you're ready for the loony bin until Cologne can cure you."

Ranma blinked, taken aback by Nabiki's tone. "W-what? Cure me? You... you mean... you guys are serious?"

Ryoga and Nabiki just looked at him in sympathy.

Ranma thought that, after what he'd been through, nothing else could phase him. He was wrong. He felt the strength trickling out of his legs and he sat down hard. "But... but what about Akane?"

"Look, Ranma," said Nabiki, "this Akane person you're so obsessed with is just a figment that the blood spell stuck in your brain."

"Figment..." Ranma felt his world crumbling around him.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Ranma," said Ryoga, coming over to clap him comfortingly on the shoulder. "Hang in there. Cologne will be back soon with that whatchamacallit stone, and those voices will be gone in no time. Things will be back to normal before you know it."

"Somehow," whispered Ranma hollowly, "I doubt it."

The spell voices in his mind echoed the sentiment happily.

--------------------

End of Part Nine


	11. Of Love and Insanity

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

--------------------------------

Hearts of Ice

Part 10: Of Love and Insanity

by Krista Perry

--------------------------------

Demons were always messy.

Akane shuddered with revulsion. Even after so long, she couldn't help but grimace as she pushed the still-wriggling pieces of her latest "kill" into a pile with the edge of her katana. The dismembered parts were struggling to reach each other, to fuse back into a whole. They would do it eventually, of course. It was nearly impossible to kill a demon permanently in the Kami Plane, which was actually kind of a relief in a strange way. Even though they were nasty, and sometimes thoroughly evil creatures, she hated the thought of killing _anything_. Even a demon.

Unfortunately, the only way to completely dissuade a demon from its self-appointed task of kidnapping either Yuki-onna or herself was to completely dismember it. Of course, the moving parts helped dispel the illusion of _complete_ death...

_Bleah._ Akane looked away as a small blue-skinned ice woman came and began to scoop the demon parts into two separate containers to prevent the thing from completely reforming too soon. She sighed. The servants always seemed to handle the results of her battles better than she did.

"All done, Akane-sama. You can look now." The little ice woman's voice held a distinct note of amusement.

"Ugh. Thanks, Sasaki-san. Do you need help, uh... getting rid of that?"

The little ice-woman chuckled. "That's quite all right, mistress. You did a good enough job that I should be quite safe disposing of it in the usual place. It will be a while before this thing pulls itself back together."

Akane smiled weakly. Demon parts were always discarded far outside the Snow Woman's realm. Which was fine with her. Just as long as the thing came back to life somewhere else, and then made the wise decision not to return. Demons could sometimes be slow learners, though...

"In the meantime," said Sasaki, her white crystalline brows creasing over her winter-grey eyes, "you should take care of your wounds. You have ki burns all over your arms."

Akane looked down at herself, noting the damage in she had taken in battle with mild dismay. "Thanks for pointing that out," she responded wryly, wincing as pain, sparked by awareness, sent sharp messages along her nerve endings.

"That's my job," the little ice woman said with a grin, showing off her teeth, which were clear and pointed like icicles. "You'd never take care of yourself if I weren't around to tell you these things."

Akane laughed a small, embarrassed laugh at the exaggeration as the ice woman left with the demon containers. She had developed a bit of a reputation early on for being extremely stubborn when it came to admitting that she needed help or that she was in any kind of pain. She _hated_ to show weakness.

Still, she'd gotten better at knowing -- and admitting -- her limits... as well as accepting help graciously when it was offered, rather than snapping back with a retort saying that she could deal with it herself.

That had been a difficult lesson for her to learn. Old habits die hard, and in the mortal plane, it seemed that she was always trying to prove herself. Prove that she was a good enough martial artist. A good enough cook.

A good enough fiancée...

"Uncute tomboy..."

Akane's head snapped up at the sound of Ranma's voice, her eyes wide with hope, and she looked around frantically. Just as quickly, she realized that it was simply Masakazu toying with her again. Her expression crumpled.

"That's not very funny, sensei," she said, her voice a mixture of annoyance and sadness.

A blur of movement, and the tengu stood before her, his black eyes gleaming from his red feathered face.

"It wasn't meant to be funny," he said, not unkindly, as he produced a jar of healing salve. Obediently, Akane sat down and held out her arms, and the tengu began to apply the ointment to her burns. He cocked his head at her. "You don't even realize it, do you?" he asked.

Akane winced at the tengu's touch, then frowned at him questioningly as the salve vanished into her skin, soothing the pain. "Realize what?"

"Haven't you noticed that when I've used Ranma's voice to taunt you during our sparring matches the past few weeks, you haven't lost your temper once?"

Akane sat silently as she digested this piece of information in her mind. She _hadn't_ noticed; not consciously, at least. But now that the tengu mentioned it, she realized he was right. She hadn't lost her temper. Not at him.

And not at Ranma.

The connection was obvious. It had been almost four weeks since Ranma had appeared to her like a ghost as some unknown spell in the mortal plane tried to overcome the blood spell that separated them. After living nearly two years in the Kami Plane, she had all but given up hope that he even remembered her.

But he did remember. He had come for her.

And, seizing the moment, she had finally told Ranma that she loved him.

Akane's expression softened as she remembered the look on his face. The shock in his familiar blue eyes. Shock that was quickly replaced with disbelief, then fearful hope. And finally joy as he...

... _almost_ told her. Akane clenched her teeth in frustration. He _almost_ said the words before the pain choked off his reply, and the failed spell pulled him away from her once again.

It was simultaneously wonderful and awful. Ranma hadn't forgotten her. He was still looking for her. Even after two years, he was still trying to find a way to overcome the blood spell and come to her. And yet the few brief seconds they had been allowed to converse, to _see_ each other, had reopened the horrible, empty longing she had thought long healed over.

Five more years. Truly an agonizing eternity to wait, now that there was the hope that...

Akane sighed. She was eighteen now, almost nineteen. Her blue-black hair fell a few inches past her shoulders. Today Yuki-onna had helped her tie it into a thick French braid so that it would stay out of her eyes during a battle...

Ranma had promised to find her, but the Snow Woman had dampened her hopes that he would succeed. Yuki-onna said that Ranma's quest was impossible unless he found a way to nullify the blood spell that forced them apart. A lengthy, difficult task in the Kami Plane. A nigh impossible one in the mortal plane.

Five years.

_Ranma, please don't give up. I'll wait for you..._

"Akane-chan."

Akane looked up, blinking tears from her eyes. The tengu looked at her with sympathy.

"The lesson is learned," said Masakazu gently. "I will no longer use Ranma's voice during training, if it causes you such pain..."

"No!" said Akane. Then she flushed and lowered her gaze as she realized how sharp her tone was. "Please," she continued softly, looking up again into the tengu's eyes. "I... I want to hear his voice."

Masakazu blinked knowingly. "Even if his voice says unkind things?"

Akane nodded. "Yes. The words may seem unkind, but..."

She paused, and realization flickered across her features. Her breath caught in her throat as a million little things clicked into place. Things that, for some reason, had never been quite clear to her before.

A soft, bittersweet smile slowly lit her face.

"The words may seem unkind," she said, "but they _mean_ something completely different."

The tengu's eyes gleamed. "It seems that more than one lesson has been learned," he said calmly as he sealed the salve jar.

Akane flushed and looked down at her hands.

Just then, the Snow Woman entered the room. Her loose robes flowed around her tall elegant form, and her shimmering white hair trailed behind her on the floor like a silken wedding train. She smiled. "Ah, Akane, I see you have once again driven off a prospective 'suitor.'"

Akane started and looked up guiltily until she realized Yuki-onna was talking about the demon she had just hacked to bits, and not... She laughed nervously as she felt her cheeks grow hot. "Yes, well," she said lightly, "that's one more down, a half million more to go."

Yuki-onna noticed Akane's high color and peered at her curiously. "Hm. Did I interrupt something?"

"Oh, not at all," said Akane hastily.

"Yes," said Masakazu. "We were just talking about Ranma."

Akane winced inwardly, then sighed and covered her eyes with one hand.

The Snow Woman's smile cracked slightly. "I see. How nice. Well, young Ranma certainly does seem to be the most interesting topic for discussion around here lately. Please, don't let my intrusion dampen your conversation. Akane, when you have a moment, come to my quarters, and I'll work on the blood spell." And with that, she left without another word.

Akane groaned and glared at the tengu. "Sensei, _why_ did you say that? You know how she gets upset whenever anyone brings up Ranma."

Masakazu blinked innocently. "Really? I had no idea. I wonder why that is."

Akane sighed heavily, feeling tears build up behind her eyes. "I don't know," she replied. Blinking back the wetness, she reached for her katana and wiped it clean with a dry rag, caressing the blade with practiced, even strokes before returning it to the sheath strapped to her back. Her hands fell limply into her lap.

"She's been so distant lately," she said thickly. "Ever since Ranma appeared... I _know_ she doesn't like him, but I can't figure out why. It's not like he's ever done anything to her." A wry smile tugged at her lips in spite of her tears. "In fact, she's one of the few females I know who doesn't want to marry him."

Masakazu sat unblinking. "She cares a great deal for you."

Akane looked down. "I know." Her response was barely a whisper. "She's been like a mother to me."

"Perhaps she doesn't want to see you get hurt."

Akane looked up to meet the tengu's gaze, her eyes shimmering, her expression serious. "Masakazu-san," she said with quiet intensity. "I would rather love Ranma and risk the chance of getting hurt than go back to being the half-person I was before I knew him." Then her eyes softened and she chucked self-depreciatingly. "Heh. Wouldn't my family be surprised to hear _those_ words come out of my mouth. Daddy would either collapse from shock or flood the house crying."

Masakazu sat silent for a moment, looking deep into Akane. Then he smiled inwardly. _Ah, Akane, how you've changed._ He grasped his jar of healing salve and stood. "Well, I'm off!"

Akane blinked, surprised. "Wait..!" But the tengu was already gone. "Sensei..?" She sighed and shook her head. Her master was wise, skilled... and odd beyond belief. Leave it to the tengu to up and leave just when she was pouring her heart out. Maybe eventually she'd get used to his abrupt entrances and exits.

She smiled wryly, brushing the last of her tears away with her fingertips as she stood. _Probably not._

--------------------

Yuki-onna stood facing her mirror. The mirror swirled with frost and magic as images sped over its reflective surface.

"Yuki-chan."

The Snow Woman started in surprise, and the mirror darkened. She turned to see the tengu standing in her doorway. "Masakazu-san," she said coldly. "What do you want?"

"I think you know what I want."

Yuki-onna tossed her mane of shimmering hair and snorted angrily. "What are you going to do? We are in my domain now. You cannot stop me. And don't think I don't know that you've been helping him. I know that you blocked the spell voices from his mind. Well, you'll be interested to know that they've broken through your barrier." The Snow Woman smiled cruelly.

The tengu cocked his head at her and his eyes flashed. "That may be. But at least I slowed the spell down. I bought them some time."

"_Them_?" The Snow Woman clenched her slender white hands into fists. "I think you mean _him_."

"I mean _them_." Masakazu spoke without anger. "Ranma and Akane love each other, no matter how much you try to deny it. I want to help them. You want to help yourself. Your motives are purely selfish, Yuki-chan, and they will end up destroying not only you, but Akane as well, and everything Akane loves."

The tengu's words were soft but powerful. Yuki-onna reacted as if she'd been slapped. She stared at him with wide eyes, then slowly began to shake her head in denial. Icy tears of frustration slipped from her eyes and slid down her white cheeks. "I would never hurt Akane," she said hoarsely.

The tengu's eyes softened. "Then I beg you, Yuki-chan. Let it go. Leave Ranma alone. Fulfill your promise to Akane. Break the blood spell and let her go home to her family."

Yuki-onna shook her head, her eyes closed. "_I_ am her family."

Now the tengu shook his head in frustration. "No. You are a lonely, bitter woman who has grown tired of eternity. You want to keep Akane for yourself, even if it means sacrificing her happiness."

"You don't understand..."

"No. _You_ do not understand. You are deceiving yourself." Masakazu's voice was firm but gentle. "Akane is not your daughter, Yuki-chan."

Yuki-onna's head snapped up, and there was cold fire in her eyes. She trembled as she struggled to contain her fury. "She is happy here." Her voice was a low rasp through clenched teeth. "She _was_ happy here, until _he_..." She broke off, unable to continue.

Masakazu gazed at her, his bird-like expression unreadable.

The Snow Woman's expression hardened. "Get out," she said. "Leave my home and do not come back. Akane is no longer in need of your training."

The tengu stood silent a moment, his black eyes glittering. "You presume too much, Yuki-onna," he said finally. "This may well be your domain, but it is not for you to tell me when my student is finished with my training." Then, in a smooth, quick motion, he turned to leave. "You will not see me again, unless you change your mind," he said quietly. "I would not lose your friendship, but it appears I have no choice. You are not the woman I once knew."

His voice hardened slightly. "Even so, I will not sacrifice my friendship with Akane simply because you are willing to throw everything away in your desperate, vain attempt to fill the void in your life. I will continue to train her whether you wish it or not. If she will still have me as her sensei," he added.

And with that, he was gone, leaving the Snow Woman staring at her empty quarters.

She stood for a moment looking after him, then sank to her knees, feeling strangely hollow.

--------------------

Akane stood frozen in silent disbelief after inadvertently eavesdropping a few feet from the entrance to the Snow Woman's quarters, all thoughts of the daily untangling of the blood spell forgotten. There was a rush of air, and the tengu moved past her with such speed that all she saw was a blur of rust-colored feathers.

She stood a moment longer. Then she heard the Snow Woman moving about inside her room, and the noise galvanized her into motion. Swiftly, silently, she ran away.

Masakazu had known she was there. She was sure of it. And he had said those things, knowing she would hear. Knowing she would hear the Snow Woman's response as well.

Hot tears spilled from her eyes as she ran blindly through the crystalline corridors of the Snow Woman's home, her sobs echoing off the pristine white walls, the sense of being betrayed weighing heavily in her gut. In one brief moment, the Snow Woman had changed in her eyes from kindly benefactor to manipulator, to possessor. And the Snow Woman's household changed from a home to a prison. For the first time in nearly two years, she felt truly trapped. Trapped in the Kami Plane by the one person who had the power to free her.

Akane stopped running and collapsed to her knees as overwhelming loneliness and homesickness welled up in her like a black tide. She shivered uncontrollably, her arms wrapped tightly around her body, as if feeling the cold of this place for the first time.

_What do I do now?_ she thought in despair. The image of her family came to her mind; of her father and sisters, whom she hadn't seen for two years. Of Ranma. She blinked as she thought of his final words to her as he faded away: That he would find her.

Steam rose from her tears as they fell steadily against the cold floor. _Oh Ranma_! she thought. _Please find a way to keep your promise..._

--------------------

Ranma woke with a start, drenched in sweat, voices ringing loudly in his head. He moaned and pressed the heels of his hands to his temples as he sat up groggily. _Spell voices_, he realized. While he had slept, they had gradually emerged from the back recesses of his mind where he had confined them the night before.

Gritting his teeth, he concentrated and pushed them back again so that he could think clearly. Even then, his mind felt fuzzy from lack of sleep. Something had happened the night before, something strange and terrifying. And yet his sleep-fogged brain couldn't quite remember what it was. Something about Akane. Something worse than her just being gone...

The smell of Kasumi's cooking wafted from downstairs, and his stomach growled noisily. When was the last time he ate? He couldn't remember. Pushing himself to his feet, he staggered sleepily into the hall.

He paused outside Akane's room, looking sadly at her wooden duck nameplate. For a moment he was tempted to go inside, just to check to see if she was there sitting at her desk or lying on her bed, and his hand stretched towards the door knob. But from the back of his mind, the spell voices whispered their insistence that she was still gone, that he would never see her again...

Ranma blinked and shook his head, letting his hand fall back to his side. He knew the room on the other side of the door was empty. Despondently, he turned and went downstairs.

"Ah, Ranma, my boy! Good to see you up and about. Feeling any better this morning?"

Ranma looked up to see Soun Tendo kneeling at the breakfast table next to Genma-panda, who was busy wolfing down food with inhuman speed. Kasumi, Nabiki and Ryoga were also eating. Kasumi smiled at him. "Good morning, Ranma. I saved some breakfast for you."

Ranma looked at the group, blinking in bafflement. "Thanks, Kasumi," he said automatically. He looked at Soun, whom he hadn't seen since the night of the blood spell when Akane's disappearance had rendered him bedridden with grief. "Uh, I'm feeling better," he lied. "How are _you_ feeling, Tendo-san?"

"Oh, fine, just fine. Isn't that right, Saotome?" Soun elbowed the panda in the ribs, and the panda paused briefly in inhaling his food to look up and grin. "Yes," he continued, "it was a nasty cold, but not even illness can keep a marital artist down for long."

Ranma began to get a bad feeling in his gut; a feeling of déjà vu from the night before. "Cold?" he asked. Nobody was paying attention.

"Please, Ranma," said Kasumi. "Sit down and have something to eat. You must be starving."

Ranma obeyed numbly, kneeling across from Ryoga and next to Nabiki. He failed to notice the ecstatic looks his father and Soun cast at each other.

"So you're really feeling better, Ranma?" asked Ryoga, looking at him over the rim of his miso soup bowl. "You've got control of the spell voices and everything?"

Ranma nodded, picking absently at his food with his chopsticks.

"Good. You really had me worried for a while there, buddy."

Ranma frowned. "Buddy?" Since when had Ryoga called him _buddy_? He was usually calling him 'enemy of women,' or something along those lines.

"Pass the soy sauce please," said Nabiki. The soy sauce was right in front of Ranma, but he was staring at Ryoga. "Hey, Ranma. Wake up. I'd like the soy sauce." When he still didn't respond, she nudged him in the arm. "Today, if possible."

He blinked, as if coming out of a dream, and handed her the bottle.

"Hey, what's wrong with you? Are you sure you're okay?"

"I... don't know," he replied honestly, half-heartedly lifting food to his mouth with his chopsticks. "Something's not right..."

"Well, let's not worry about that now," said Soun, grinning from ear to ear. "Ranma, since you've got those spell voices under control, and since you're all here," he said, looking around at those seated at the table, "Genma and I have an announcement to make. Ranma, you have lived with our family for a year now, and it is your father's and my decision that it's time for you to honor the agreement we made when you were born."

Ranma looked at Soun in shock, his chopsticks frozen in mid-motion to his mouth. "What?! You can't be serious! How can I do that when she's not even--"

"Now, Ranma, you knew this was coming, so it should be no surprise. Yes, we have decided that you shall marry my youngest daughter Nabiki. As of now, she is your fiancée."

Ranma's chopsticks snapped in half. Nabiki choked on her miso soup.

"Oh, how wonderful," said Kasumi, beaming happily. "Now you will really be a part of the family, Ranma!"

Ryoga smirked as he looked at the new couple's horrified expressions. "Hey, congratulations, you two!" he said.

Ranma's mind was suddenly clear of fog. The memory of the previous night and his conversation with Nabiki and Ryoga came clearly, painfully into his mind. "You... you can't do that," said Ranma hoarsely. "What about Akane? She's supposed to be my fiancée!"

Soun's face darkened. "Akane?" he asked. He turned to Genma, his demon-head flaring. "And who, exactly, is Akane? Don't tell me you sold Ranma for food again, Saotome!" The panda shook his head frantically.

Ranma leaped to his feet and grabbed Soun by the front of his gi. "Akane _happens_ to be your daughter, you idiot! You engaged me to her, and now she's missing, trapped in the Kami Plane by this stupid blood spell! How can you possibly forget your own daughter?!"

Soun quailed as Ranma's battle aura flared red around him. "Now, now, take it easy son..."

Nabiki sighed. "Ranma, I thought you said you were feeling better."

Ranma released Soun and turned on Nabiki. "I _am_ feeling better! It's all of you who have gone crazy!" He turned to Kasumi, wild desperation lighting his eyes. "Kasumi, you remember Akane, don't you? She's your little sister, she's my age with short black hair, and she's a real tomboy except when she smiles, and her cooking is toxic, and I've been engaged to her for the past year, and..." He trailed off as she stared at him blankly.

"I'm sorry, Ranma, but I don't know what you're talking about," she said. She frowned worriedly. "Perhaps we should have had Doctor Tofu come over last night after all."

Ryoga shook his head, looking at Ranma in consternation. "I think he needs a shrink, not a chiropractor."

Ranma was too shocked to even respond. He stood numbly, looking at the people surrounding the table, his friends, his family. _No no no, this can't be happening. They really don't remember Akane, not even Tendo-san..._ "It... it's part of the blood spell," he said finally. "Somehow, it's made you all forget her..."

"What's all this about?" asked Soun, confused.

[I have no idea,] said Genma-panda, shrugging.

Nabiki looked at Ranma as he gazed in disbelief around the table, a dozen conflicting emotions warring within her, yet she kept her expression carefully neutral. This was all wrong, this wasn't the way it was supposed to be. She had suspected that Daddy was going to spring this engagement on her and Ranma to honor that so-called agreement he and Saotome-san had made so many years ago. She just didn't think they would be so stupid as to spring it in the middle of this whole blood spell mess. With their narrow, linear way of thinking, they probably thought that the problem with the spell voices in Ranma's head would either just go away or be inconsequential if they got their two kids married.

Nabiki frowned slightly at the thought. She remembered that she and Ranma had once played at being engaged, after she manipulated him by telling him that she loved him. He had been so shocked, and so afraid of hurting her feelings, that he had gone along with it and played the dutiful fiance. At least he did until he got tired and angry after she kept renting him out by the hour to his other fiancees, or for hard manual labor that required ridiculous feats of strength and agility. It had been very profitable while it lasted, though... \

Still... She wondered what it would be like to _really_ be Ranma's fiancée. No, not _just_ his fiancée. He had a million of those wandering around, it seemed. But... He was one of the best-looking guys in town, with a handsome face and a great bod. He had courage and honor, and his martial arts skills were unparalleled. That, combined with his natural naiveté and charming, clumsy ineptness when it came to women, made him undeniably appealing. Okay, so he was cursed to turn into a girl every now and then. Not to mention the very important fact that he was poor as a church mouse. But then that hardly mattered, since, whether he knew it or not, she always managed to make a substantial profit off of him...

She cut the thought off as Ranma turned and his eyes met hers. She winced a little as he seemed to search her face, and, not finding what he was looking for -- recognition of this Akane person, apparently -- he dropped his gaze to the floor. He looked so... so lost. She felt a little twinge of... something... inside her chest. _Those spell voices must really be tearing up his mind,_ she thought. _Okay. Think about the engagement later. Right now, help Ranma._

She stood from the table to face him. "Ranma," she said. "Listen. The blood spell was cast on you, not on any of us. You remember that, don't you?"

Ranma didn't answer. Just a barely perceptible nod as he looked at the floor, his fists clenched at his sides in frustration.

"Then it doesn't really make sense that we're the ones with the faulty memories, does it?"

Silence. Then a low whisper. "I tell you, Akane's real. She's not a figment of my imagination, or of the blood spell, or whatever."

"Then why don't any of us, who weren't touched by the blood spell, know anything about her?" she asked quietly. "It's like Cologne said. The spell was supposed to make you hate Shampoo by making you think she had taken away your most precious possession. Since you didn't have anything like that that would make you upset enough to hate Shampoo, the blood spell created something and placed it in your mind with these spell voices, and that's all this girl is. Akane doesn't exist. She never has existed. She's just part of the blood spell."

_Odd_, realized Nabiki suddenly, _that the blood spell would create a girl to be the thing Ranma loves most. Maybe he's not as shy about women as I thought..._

Suddenly, Ranma's head jerked up. "Her room!" he shouted, and grabbed Nabiki by the wrist.

She gasped as, with a yank, he began pulling her down the hall towards the stairs. "Ranma, what are you doing?"

"Come on, you guys," he called back to the dining room. "Akane is real! I can prove it to you!"

Kasumi, Soun, Genma-panda and Ryoga all looked at each other in bafflement. Then they got up and followed.

"There! See?" Ranma stopped outside a door in the hallway. "Look for yourself. The blood spell was only cast on me, right? Well then how do you explain this room?"

Nabiki stared at the wooden duck nameplate, identical to hers and Kasumi's except that it bore the name "Akane." She looked at Ranma and raised an eyebrow.

"Go on," he said. "Open the door and see for yourself."

Shrugging, Nabiki reached out and turned the knob, opening the door.

She gasped. On the other side was a girl's room. The flowered blankets on the bed and the school uniform and dried flowers hanging on the wall said as much. Next to the window was a study desk, with papers strewn across it as though someone had left in the middle of doing homework. A set of barbells lay on the floor next to the bed. _Well_, thought Nabiki wryly through her surprise, _it figures that Ranma's fantasy woman would be into weight lifting._

"Oh my," said Kasumi as she and the others came up behind them. "Ranma, what have you done to the storage room?"

Ranma blinked at Kasumi in shock. "What have I..? I haven't done anything! This is Akane's room!"

"Ranma, where did you get all this?" asked Soun, frowning slightly. "I know you're upset with this blood spell business and all, but this is going a bit overboard, don't you think, son?"

Ranma clenched his teeth, and his ki began to flicker brightly around him. "I'm telling you, I didn't do this! Look!" He went over to the desk. "This is Akane's homework! Do you think I would do her homework?"

The others just blinked at him.

Ranma looked around desperately, trying to find something that would jog their memories. His eyes fell on the picture that hung over the head of Akane's bed, sitting in the frame that he'd bought her for Santa Day. He ran over and grabbed it off the wall. "Look," he said pleadingly, "this is her, right there. This proves that she's real! See?" He held it in front of Soun's face, but he just looked at it blankly. Nabiki took the picture from Ranma's hand and examined it.

She frowned. It was the picture that had been taken of the whole gang after their shipwreck and encounter with Prince Toma's floating island. "Sorry, Ranma, I don't recognize her. Besides, this girl could be anybody. She's probably one of the girls that Prince Toma kidnapped."

Ranma opened his mouth to protest, but Nabiki stopped him. "Look at all the people in this picture, Ranma," she said. "There's Ukyo and Shampoo right next to you. But if this girl's supposed to be the one you love, why is she standing clear over there away from you?"

Ranma blinked, a stricken expression on his face. "I... I..."

Nabiki shook her head. "Look, Ranma, I don't know where all this stuff came from. Maybe you put this here while under the influence of the blood spell or something. Maybe the blood spell created some physical evidence to help convince you. It doesn't matter. It doesn't change the fact that none of us were touched by the blood spell, and you were. You have to accept that, or you're going to drive yourself crazy worrying over a missing girl who doesn't exist."

Ranma looked into the concerned faces of his friends and family, and felt his resolve crumbling. _No, it can't be! But... what if she's right? What if there never was an Akane... What if it's all the blood spell..._

_No Akane..._ A tremor ran through Ranma. If Akane wasn't real, then all his memories of the past year of his life were a lie. He tried to think of what his life would actually have been like, since he showed up at the Tendo Dojo, without Akane there. But he couldn't do it. Akane was an ingrained part of almost everything he did, from the first time he sparred with her as a girl in the dojo, all through their turbulent engagement, to this very moment as he thought of her being trapped in the Kami Plane.

But Nabiki might be right. The blood spell might have re-written his memories. Akane might be nothing more than a magical influence on his mind; a creation made specifically to become the sole purpose of his existence, only to have it taken away...

It almost made sense in a strange way. He certainly couldn't recall feeling as... passionate about anyone until he met Akane. Whether she was pounding him into the pavement or smiling in that way that made him feel all funny inside, nobody evoked emotion in him the way Akane did.

Wasn't that magic?

Blood spell figment or not, Akane was a part of himself that he didn't want to lose.

The spell voices whispered in the back of his mind.

**Akane is alive, Akane is alive...**

**You'll never see her again...**

His father, the Tendos, and Ryoga, all looked at him with worry on their faces.

It was too much to bear. Ranma's shoulders slumped, and he turned and walked from the room.

"Ranma?" Ryoga's voice, hesitant and concerned, followed him down the hall. Funny how, without Akane to fight over, Ryoga seemed to be his best friend now. It was kind of nice, and he wondered how they had become friends. He couldn't remember. He went into his room and closed the door behind him.

The others stood in uncomfortable silence. Finally, Soun cleared his throat. "Nabiki, you're his fiancée now, and you seemed to be getting through to him. Perhaps you should go talk to him."

Nabiki stared at Ranma's closed door and shook her head, a strange feeling eating at her gut. "I don't think so Daddy. Ranma needs to be alone right now to think things through. And you and I need to have a talk about this fiancée thing." Soun looked around nervously, and Nabiki rolled her eyes. "But not right now," she said.

_Right now, I'm going to my own room to lie down until this headache that I've just developed goes away_.

She sighed, and went into her room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it wearily. She listened as the others slowly went back down stairs.

She stood, looking at her bed a moment. Then she changed her mind and sat down at her desk, which was covered with various electronic equipment. Plugging her earphones into an elaborate system, she reached over and flipped a small, obscure switch, then listened carefully.

She couldn't hear anything. Not that she really expected to. _Poor Ranma_, she thought. _He's probably in shock. I know I was kind of harsh, but it was the only way to convince him. Imagine, him thinking that he's engaged to some non-existent girl named Akane..._

Then she heard something, so faint she wasn't sure if she'd imagined it. Until she heard it again.

A soft, shuddering sob.

Nabiki blinked. _He's... crying?_

She pulled off her earphones, her heart pounding in her chest, and she stood from her chair. _Oh man. Why, oh why did I do that?_ she thought with flustered anger. _That was so stupid of me, I can't believe I did that. Nabiki, you idiot, what _else_ did you think you were going to hear, with him in there by himself after what you just said to him? As if he's not going through enough right now..._

_Ranma..._

She stood for a moment in indecision, then walked out of her room and down the hall, pausing outside his door. She raised her knuckles and rapped softly. "Ranma?"

There was no answer.

She slid the door open quietly. He was sitting with his back to her in the corner of his room by his dresser. The bottom drawer was open. His hunched shoulders shook with another quiet sob as she stood watching. Swallowing, she closed the door behind her.

"Ranma," she said, her voice catching in her throat. "I... I'm sorry. I know it's hard with this blood spell and all, and I was a little harsh back there..."

He didn't respond. Just sat there, hunched over, his pigtail hanging limply down his back. Slowly, she walked up behind him and looked over his shoulder.

In his hands he held a length of thick, blue-black hair, tied with a ribbon. As she watched, his tears fell into the silky strands and were absorbed, disappearing completely.

"Ryoga accidentally cut her hair off when we were fighting," he whispered. "She was so mad 'cause she'd been growing it to be long like Kasumi's hair. I didn't think she'd forgive me. But then Kasumi trimmed it so that it looked so... cute... I almost... didn't r-recognize her... at f-first..." His voice trailed off hoarsely into silence even as another glistening tear fell into the lock of hair.

Nabiki didn't know what to say. This was far beyond her realm of experience, and she'd never really been the comforting type. She stood there awkwardly, suddenly wishing for a bit of Kasumi's ability to deal with these kind of things.

"I know she's real, Nabiki," Ranma said quietly. But the fear and doubt in his voice belied the firmness of his words. "I don't care if you think that this is just part of that damn spell..."

Nabiki blinked in surprise as she felt tears build behind her eyes. "It's... okay, Ranma," she said awkwardly. _Like hell_! she thought, her racing mind unable to ease the strange ache building in her chest. _I'm watching you lose your mind because of this stupid blood spell..._

Ranma stiffened, and for a moment, she almost regretted saying anything. After all, he was always going on about how he was a guy, and how guys don't cry, and he probably hated her for seeing him like this...

Then Ranma raised his head slightly. Nabiki saw his face in profile, his expression shadowed under his dark bangs. She blinked in shock as she recognized an emotion she had never seen on Ranma's face before; an emotion she never thought she'd _ever_ see on his face...

Hopelessness. It flickered across his tear-streaked face, seemed to permeate his entire countenance...

Nabiki felt suddenly cold. She had seen Ranma feel anguish before... the Chiisuiton disaster, for instance... But she had never, ever seen him... give up.

His blue eyes, still wet with unshed tears, were filled with intense despair, extinguishing the fire of confidence that normally burned there as he stared blankly at nothing... Yet, even as his face told of his inner misery, his hands tightened on the thick lock of blue-black hair as if he was holding onto a lifeline; as if to let it go would mean the end of his existence...

Nabiki felt her heart contract painfully in her chest. She was _way_ out of her depth. What had possessed her to come in here in the first place? This... What could she _possibly_ do to make this better?

A hug? No. She was not a physically demonstrative person by nature, and she knew that Ranma wasn't much better. Besides, the only person who ever threw her arms around Ranma on a consistent basis was Shampoo, and that was a person she didn't want to think about at the moment.

Still... she couldn't just stand there and do nothing. And Ranma needed _something_...

Gathering her courage, Nabiki reached out and gave Ranma's shoulder a tentative, gentle squeeze. "Ranma..."

Nabiki's touch was like a spark in the darkness, pulling Ranma back from the dangerous ledge on which he teetered precariously. He didn't move, but his eyes focused again, to her relief...

"What am I gonna do, Nabiki?" Ranma's voice trembled; was barely a whisper. He looked down at the thick lock of hair. "I... love... Akane."

The words seemed to hang in the air, almost tangible. Nabiki didn't know what to say. It was as if Ranma's simple, awkward confession of love for his imaginary blood-spell girl had robbed her mind of coherent thought.

Ranma raised his head slowly, staring straight ahead. An amazed, yet frightened look shimmered in his widening eyes, as if he himself was only now becoming aware of the words that had just escaped his lips.

At that moment, Nabiki felt as if she wasn't even in the room. It was just Ranma. Ranma, and the sudden revelation that was filling his wide blue eyes with a million different emotions, each more powerful than the last...

... until he seemed to crumble before her eyes. Ranma sagged over, clenching the lock of hair and holding it to his chest as a low sob escaped his throat.

"Nabiki," he whispered brokenly. "I love her... and I never told her... She doesn't know. And now she's either trapped in the Kami Plane where I can't get to her and everybody has forgotten about her except me, or she doesn't exist at all except in my own mind." A tear escaped his wet eyes and slipped down his shadowed cheek. "I never told her..."

Nabiki's eyes burned, and her throat felt dry. She hated this. She hated seeing Ranma like this. The cold, rational part of her, the part that knew Akane didn't really exist, wanted to force Ranma to accept reality. Wanted to slap him upside the face and tell him to snap out of it and join the real world.

But looking at him... seeing his very real grief and despair... she couldn't.

Because she knew that it wouldn't do any good.

Ranma believed that Akane was real. And he... loved her. But that wasn't the real tragedy, it was only the evidence of the tragedy. The real tragedy was the blood-spell that now ruled Ranma's mind, his memory, his soul. His whole life was now based on a lie. All of his vitality and confidence seemed to have been sapped away in just a few days. All because of the blood spell Shampoo had cast so that she could claim Ranma as a trophy husband to take back to her Amazon village.

Nabiki clenched her fists at her side, and thought of a certain tape she still had in her possession. _Cologne, I swear, if you don't come back and cure Ranma of your blood spell in two days, you and that Chinese bimbo are toast._

But what could she do for Ranma now? She couldn't just leave him here and wait for Cologne to come back with the cure. Ranma was dwindling, spiraling down into his blood-spell induced delusions. She could tell by the way his white-knuckled hands still clung to the lock of hair that he claimed was once Akane's.

He needed to get out and be with other people. He needed to get back into the swing of his life as it was before the blood spell hit. Otherwise, he really would go crazy...

"Ranma," she said quietly. "Why don't you... clean yourself up and come to school with me this morning. You've been out for four days because of this whole mess, and I think it would be good for you to go and get your mind off... this."

Ranma raised his head slowly and blinked at her, as if just realizing she was still there. Slowly, his eyes cleared. "School?"

"Yeah, school," she said, smiling slightly, trying to ignore the haunted look on his face. "You know, the big building where a lot of kids and a few adults go to watch you fight Kuno? It's been a few days. I bet he's just aching to kill you for keeping his pig-tailed goddess from him for so long."

Ranma stared at her with a stupefied expression as he realized she was trying to cheer him up. This was a side of Nabiki he hadn't seen before. "Nabiki..?"

"What are you looking at me like that for?" she asked, feigning indifference. "My profit margins are down five percent because you haven't been there to beat Kuno in your ritual morning fight." She left her tone light enough to let him know that she was kidding... just barely. She had actually lost and spent more money because of this whole fiasco than she had in the past six months combined.

Ranma blinked. Then, slowly, the corner of his mouth turned up into the pale ghost of a smile. "I... Okay, Nabiki. That sounds like a good idea."

She smiled. A real smile, the kind that rarely lit her face. "Good," she said. "Think you can be ready in time? We have to leave soon."

Ranma nodded, a glimmer of his old life coming back into his countenance. But his hands still clutched the lock of dark hair. "I'll be ready," he said.

Nabiki stood and looked at him seriously, not quite willing to leave out of fear that he was just humoring her so that she would go away...

Ranma seemed to understand what she was thinking. "Really," he said. A hint of gratitude seeped into his voice. "I'll be ready."

Nabiki left Ranma's room with a strange, light feeling in her chest, and traces of her smile still on her face.

--------------------

End of Part Ten


	12. Best Laid Plans

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 11: Best Laid Plans

by Krista Perry

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Cologne gazed contemplatively at the scroll unrolled before her, reading by the light of the small campfire whose glow and heat held back the cool spring night of the Chinese wilderness that surrounded her. She had read the scroll every few hours for the past three days, ever since she left Japan, according to the instructions inscribed in her own handwriting. Only now was she beginning to appreciate the reason why she had written such instructions to herself.

The writing on the scroll described the events of the past week in painstaking detail. From the blood spell that Shampoo cast, using blood from the Ancient One, banishing Akane Tendo to a place where Ranma Saotome could not hope to reach her, and placing spell voices in his mind to reinforce the hopelessness of any attempt to rescue her.

To returning to the Nekohanten, only to discover that Ranma knew they were the ones behind the spell, and the ones to blame for Akane's disappearance and the voices that now plagued his mind.

To deceiving him with the lie that, while in China, Shampoo was kidnapped by a dragon to be a dragon bride, and that the spell was cast by the dragon to make Ranma hate Shampoo, knowing that Ranma would believe she was responsible for Akane's disappearance.

To the blackmailing efforts of Nabiki Tendo, and the taped confession the girl acquired through unscrupulously bugging the Nekohanten.

To the casting of the True Love spell on Ranma, and the revelation that Akane was trapped in the Kami Plane.

To Cologne leaving with the promise that she would return with the Eye of Kami, which would allow Ranma to rescue Akane from the Kami Plane.

The Kami Plane.

Cologne closed her eyes, feeling the small warmth from the campfire flicker against the withered skin of her face. She knew what effect the Kami Plane had on those mortals who became trapped within its boundaries. As well as what effect it had on the friends and family and acquaintances who were left behind. It was a small piece of the vast knowledge of the unusual she had acquired in a lifetime that spanned three centuries.

And now she knew for certain, from first hand experience, that the knowledge she acquired was correct.

Because she could not, for the life of her, remember knowing anyone named Akane Tendo.

And yet the girl existed. She had, apparently, been the main obstacle to Son-in-law's heart, preventing him from marrying Shampoo as he was bound by Amazon tribal law. Yet no matter what Cologne did, or how she focused and meditated, she could not remember her.

Her own memory told her that Ranma had two other girls, Ukyo Kuonji and Kodachi Kuno, who lay claim to the boy as their fiance, and that he had another potential fiancée in one of the two Tendo sisters, to honor an agreement their fool fathers made. Her own memory told her that Ranma was not in love with _any_ girl; that he was more interested in improving his martial arts abilities and finding a cure to his Jusenkyo curse than deciding which female suitor would be his wife.

Her own memory told her that the blood spell Shampoo had cast was to force Ranma to go through a traumatic experience so great that, when Shampoo was there by his side to give comfort and support, he would fall in love with her of his own free will. Her memory told her that it nearly worked but for the meddling of Nabiki Tendo, who caught their confession on tape and threatened to play it for Ranma unless they removed the spell from him.

Her own memory told her that her first attempt to remove the spell voices from Ranma's mind had failed, but that she had bought herself some time by going to China to get an Amazon cure known as the Eye of Kami.

Cologne shook her head in amazement. Her memory paralleled the story on the scroll, yet with all references to Akane Tendo removed. But at least her memory was straight on _one_ point. There _was_ no Eye of Kami. It was simply a ruse to allow her to get away for a while as she...

_... gathered ingredients for a potion that would rid Ranma's mind of the spell voices..._

No. That was what her mind told her, but according to the scroll, the ruse was to buy time. Time for the Kami Plane to extend its subtle magic and erase all memory of Akane Tendo from the minds of her family, friends, and associates.

If her own memory was any indication, the Kami Plane's magic was working. By the time she returned, no one would even remember that Akane even existed, let alone needed to be rescued from the Kami Plane.

Except for Ranma.

Cologne sighed, holding her tiny, wrinkled hands out to the fire. The problem lay in the spell voices. They continually whispered to Ranma's mind that Akane was alive, but that he would never find her. There _was_ the possibility that his memory of Akane would fade in spite of the spell voices, and that the voices would simply stop making sense to him. But there was also the greater danger that, instead, they would keep Akane's memory alive in him.

She _had_ to find a way to eliminate the spell voices. She had to make sure Ranma forgot Akane completely.

There was a way, but...

Cologne frowned, and used her staff to poke at the dying flames of the campfire. Now was not the time to have second thoughts. She was committed. From the moment Shampoo cast the blood spell, her course of action was set in stone. But now, the game had become too dangerous, too complicated.

It was time for her and Shampoo to cut their losses and run.

She couldn't eliminate the spell voices completely. The only way to do that was to break the blood spell itself, and that was beyond her abilities.

But... there _was_ a potion she could make that would numb Ranma's mind to the point where he would no longer hear the spell voices in his head. The disadvantage to this was that, while Son-in-law would retain his martial arts prowess, the potion would rob him of all functions of higher thought and much of his memory. It would, essentially, leave him with the mentality of a small child.

Then again, with Ranma in such a state, it would be easy to take him by the hand and lead him docilely to the Amazon village, far away from Nabiki Tendo and her blackmail tapes, as well as the other girls who desired to have Son-in-law as their own. Once they returned home, he would be Shampoo's husband and provide strong heirs to strengthen the Amazon tribe. His state of mind hardly mattered, since Shampoo would be the head of the household anyway...

Cologne sighed. Shampoo might be a bit upset at first about the potion's effects on Son-in-law. The whole reason her great-granddaughter cast the blood spell in the first place was so that Ranma would fall in love with her of his own free will. But the chances of that happening now were practically nil. Shampoo would have to be satisfied with Ranma's body. She would never have his mind. Not if what her scroll said was true, and she knew it was. She had written it herself, after all...

A smile crawled across Cologne's face as she contemplated her decided course of action. A child-like Ranma with little memory of his past could be easily molded into the perfect Amazon man. _All in all_, she thought, _a plan with very few drawbacks. _Now all she had to do now was find the necessary ingredients for the potion...

--------------------

Akane heaved a shuddering sigh, her face and her eyes dry, all her tears having been spent hours earlier. She sat on her futon and waited, knowing that he would come. Funny, and a bit unnerving at times, how he was able to read her mind that way...

"Akane-chan."

Akane turned to face the tengu. "Masakazu... sensei," she said.

The tengu's eyes glimmered briefly with a smile as Akane reaffirmed that she still wished to be his student. Then his gaze turned serious. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

Akane wrapped her arms around her knees. "I... I don't know. I'm... angry at her," she said softly. "She betrayed me. And yet I can't help feeling bad because I know she doesn't _mean_ to hurt me..." Her thoughts drifted to the many nights she awoke to the sound of ethereal grief as the Snow Woman mourned for her lost children, and her heart ached with conflicting emotions. She looked up at the tengu, her brown eyes shimmering. "Does... does she plan to hurt Ranma?"

The tengu closed his eyes. "I don't know. Perhaps. Ever since you became her bodyguard and she was able to remove the barrier around her domain and relieve the drain on her powers, she has been keeping her thoughts closely guarded. I do know that she hates him because she blames him for your continued desire to go home."

Akane shook her head and pressed her hands to her eyes. "She wants to keep me here. Then what about the blood spell? It doesn't make sense that she would work at breaking it every day for two years if she wants me to stay."

"That I cannot answer," said Masakazu solemnly.

Akane lifted her hands from her eyes and looked at him piercingly. "Cannot or will not?" she asked, knowing that everything the tengu said was the truth, but that often he kept knowledge from her for reasons known only to himself. Surely he had known of the Snow Woman's true disposition long before she had. She was tired of being left in the dark.

The tengu blinked at her. "Cannot," he answered. His voice was surprisingly sad. "I wish I could give you the answers you desire, but I am... forbidden." His bottomless black eyes met hers, and she felt a tremor run through her as she saw something she had never seen in her sensei's eyes before. Apprehension. Nervousness. Akane blinked in surprise.

"I can tell you this," said the tengu softly, almost urgently. "Part of the blood spell that binds you to the Kami Plane has also protected you in a measure from the spell that the Kami Plane casts on all mortals within its boundaries. The Kami Plane is sentient, in a way. It is very aware of your human presence amongst its eternal inhabitants. It is also aware that you have not succumbed to its spell, and it is... frustrated. Because of this, I have been severely... limited in the help I can give you. Even the incident today, where I allowed you to eavesdrop on the conversation between Yuki-onna and myself was... how should I say? Pushing my luck."

Akane swallowed hard. "I... see..." she said, trying to hold her voice steady. She had lived here for two years in relative peace -- well, not counting the almost daily demon attacks -- and yet now the Kami Plane was becoming more frightening by the moment.

"You may do with this knowledge what you will," said the tengu. "But do not ask more of me. Just know that, if it is within my power to do so, I will help you."

Akane felt tears build behind her eyes. It was nice to know that she wasn't _completely_ alone... "Thank you, sensei," she said. She felt a new resolve fill the emptiness inside her. She stood from her futon.

"Where are you going?" asked Masakazu.

"I'm going to talk to Yuki-san," she replied.

-------------------

Yuki-onna gazed into her frosted mirror. She had been spending more and more of her time the past few weeks looking in on her hated enemy in the mortal plane as the fluxing time dilation that existed between the planes gradually changed. Time in the Kami Plane, which seemed to move faster than time in the mortal plane as a general rule, was slowing down considerably in relation to its mundane companion. Only a single month had passed in the Kami Plane as opposed to the past three days in the mortal realm, whereas before, months seemed to fly by in a few mortal hours.

And now it appeared as if time in the mortal plane was matching time in the Kami Plane almost minute for minute, which made it harder for her to catch every moment in Ranma's life. Because of this, the Snow Woman spied through her mirror carefully every chance she could to make sure the boy didn't make any progress on keeping his promise to find Akane. She sighed. It was inconvenient, but no doubt Kami Plane time would start speeding up once again...

An interesting scene was unfolding before her. It seemed as though the influence of the Kami Plane was finally making itself felt in the mortal world. Akane had faded completely from the minds of her family and friends. Except for Ranma, of course, because of that blasted wisp of dragon blood that served as a transdimensional link between himself and Akane. He was now in process of discovering that he was quite alone in his belief that she existed at all.

"Look, Ranma." Nabiki's voice projected eerily from the mirror. "I don't know where all this stuff came from. Maybe you put this here while under the influence of the blood spell or something. Maybe the blood spell created some physical evidence to help convince you. It doesn't matter. It doesn't change the fact that none of us were touched by the blood spell, and you were. You have to accept that, or you're going to drive yourself crazy worrying over a missing girl who doesn't exist."

A cold smile lit the Snow Woman's face as she watched. This... this was something she would have to watch again. She could almost see the boy's sanity start to crumble as Akane's sister used piercing, if erroneous logic to shatter his conviction that they had forgotten Akane because of the blood spell. _He_ was the one touched by the blood spell, ergo, _he_ was the one with the delusional mind.

It was too perfect. If things kept up like this, she may not have to do anything to interfere at all.

She couldn't help but chuckle softly at the stricken look on Ranma's face as he slowly realized that Nabiki might be right.

She watched with cool amusement as Ranma went to his room, his shoulders slumped in despair. He closed the door behind him, went over to his dresser, knelt down, and opened the bottom drawer. Using one hand to push his clothes aside, he reached in with the other and pulled out a small cardboard box from the bottom of the drawer. Sitting cross legged, he opened the box with trembling hands.

Then, reaching in carefully, almost reverently, he pulled out a length of dark, blue-black hair tied with a white ribbon.

Ranma's face was pale, his dark hair spiking over haunted blue eyes that shimmered with tears of despair. He stroked the silken strands with shaking fingers.

"Akane..." he whispered. And began to sob quietly.

The Snow Woman laughed.

Another sob, wrenching and full of pain.

Wait...

Yuki-onna's head snapped up. That sound hadn't come from her mirror...

The Snow Woman spun around, the mirror darkening behind her...

And found herself facing Akane.

Akane stood in the middle of her quarters, staring at the now-dark mirror. Tears streamed silently down her face, her brown eyes wide in a mingling of disbelief and grief...

... and fury.

Yuki-onna's stepped back in shock, leaning against the mirror to keep from collapsing as the strength drained out of her legs. "Akane..." she said hoarsely. "How... how long have you..."

"Long enough," Akane replied. Her words were ghost-like, barely audible, without any force behind them, yet Yuki-onna reeled as if from a physical blow.

"Akane." Her voice was pleading. "I can explain..."

"You..." Akane's voice was low. The barest flicker of blue battle aura began to show itself around her trembling form. "You laughed at him. I knew you resented him, but... How could you take such delight in someone else's suffering? How could you _laugh_, when he's so obviously in... in pain..." Akane's voice cracked, and she blinked back the blinding tears and shook her head back and forth, her jaw clenched tightly, as if in denial of what she had just witnessed.

"Please understand, Akane..."

"Understand?!" Akane laughed bitterly through her tears. "My family," she said, her voice rising in volume and pitch, "has forgotten me. They've _forgotten_ me! Ranma is the only one who remembers me, and he thinks he's going crazy because of it, and you laughed at him!" Her aura was flaring brightly now.

"Akane..." The Snow Woman's voice was quiet with despair.

"You knew this would happen! You've been watching Ranma and my family through your mirror for two years! You knew it and you didn't tell me! You _lied_ to me!" Akane stood shaking with fury.

Yuki-onna flinched, a look of anguish etching itself on her smooth white face.

Akane seemed to deflate abruptly, and her battle aura died down to nothing as she looked at the Snow Woman. She raised her hands to brush ineffectually with her fingers at the continuing flow of tears from her eyes.

"I trusted you," she whispered. "I thought you were my friend. I even thought of you as... as..." She swallowed and looked at the floor.

Yuki-onna wanted to say something... anything... to fix everything that was falling apart around her, to remove the sharpness from Akane's gaze and words, to win back the love and trust of her kindred spirit, her... daughter...

But no words came.

When Akane looked up, her eyes were wet, but determined. "I'm leaving," she said softly, hoarsely. "I'm going to find someone in the Kami Plane who will break the blood spell so I can... go home. You'll have to find someone else to be your pet mortal from now on."

And with that, she turned and walked quickly away.

The Snow Woman, numb with shock, reached out her hand. _No..._ "Akane..."

_Akane, don't leave me..._

But she was gone.

In one day. Masakazu was gone, and now, Akane was gone. She had lost them both.

The Snow Woman sat silently and stared at nothing as tears of ice slid unnoticed down her face.

--------------------

"R-Ranma! H-hold on! W-wait up a s-sec!"

Ranma paused in running to glance behind him. Nabiki stood gasping for breath, her book bag pressed to her chest with both hands as she gulped in air. She glared at him as she slowly straightened, then winced at a pain in her side.

"You don't... have to run... so fast," she said, her chest heaving as she got her breath back. "Besides, we're already late. A few more minutes won't kill us."

Ranma just looked at her. He'd never had to slow down for Akane...

Akane...

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. _No! I can't think about that_. His thoughts had been whirling in chaotic circles all morning as he tried to reconcile his memories of Akane with the reality that surrounded him -- a reality that said she didn't exist -- and all he'd managed to do was develop a colossal headache, as well as a strong doubt regarding the state of his own sanity.

Part of him wanted give up. It would be so much easier to believe Nabiki. It would be so much easier for him if he simply accepted the possibility that Akane was nothing more than a figment of the blood spell, a magical concoction designed to manipulate his memory and emotions. If he did that, then he could resign himself to learning about the unfamiliar reality he found himself occupying, knowing that his memories... and his feelings... were magically induced.

But another, deeper part of him screamed at him that his memories were true. That Akane, and his feelings for her, were the most real things he'd ever known.

And that disturbed him more than anything. Did that mean he was right about Akane, and everybody else was wrong? Or did that mean that he could no longer distinguish between himself and the blood spell that had invaded him?

"Ranma?" Nabiki was looking at him, her brow creased slightly with worry. Ranma looked a bit glazed. Her mouth turned down at the corners as she realized it might not have been such a hot idea to have him come with her to school today.

Ranma blinked, and his eyes focused on her. "Sorry," he muttered softly. "I guess I'm just used to running with... I'll slow down."

Nabiki didn't miss his correction. _That damn blood spell..._ "Are you going to be okay?" she asked, her voice surprisingly gentle. "You can go home if you don't feel up to this."

Ranma shook his head firmly. "No. I can't just sit around and do nothing." The corner of his mouth turned up in half-smile full of irony. "If I did that, I'd _really_ go crazy."

Nabiki eyed him critically for a moment, and then her gaze softened. "All right," she said, capitulating. "Let's go then. But let's walk, okay?"

Ranma looked as if he wanted to protest, but then he sighed. "Okay," he said.

Nabiki immediately wished she hadn't asked him to walk. Even though it annoyed her that he left her in the dust, running had seemed to revive a bit of the old spark in Ranma. But then _anything_ was better than watching Ranma waste away at home as he pined after his imaginary blood spell girl. Still, telling Ranma to just _walk_ was like... like clipping an eagle's wings.

She was going to say something, to tell him to go on ahead without her, but then she realized that he was no longer next to her. Startled, she looked around and saw that he was balancing on the fence next to the drainage ditch. And then, after a graceful leap, he was walking on the wall on the other side of the sidewalk. Then he was at her side again, only to be on the fence a moment later. She realized that he was keeping pace with her, but was simply covering a lot more ground while he was at it.

Nabiki smiled. This was more like it. She should have known Ranma couldn't hold himself back to just _walking_.

Ranma jumped to the sidewalk in front of her again, only to get hit in the face with a ladle full of water.

"Glaahh!" he sputtered as his curse took effect. The old woman took no notice of him as usual, and continued cleaning her sidewalk.

Ranma looked down at his woman's body in shock for a moment, then sighed heavily. "Aw, jeeze," he groaned, an octave higher than usual. "Why couldn't _Jusenkyo_ be part of my messed-up memory?"

Nabiki shook her head, trying to conceal a smile that, before the blood spell mess, would have been a smirk. "Honestly, Ranma, I thought a martial artist like you would have learned to avoid that old woman by now."

Ranma glared at her as he re-tied his belt to fit his tiny waist and swiped the water from his dripping red bangs. "Yeah, well, I was distracted," he growled unhappily.

Nabiki stifled a chuckle. "Come on," she said. "We'll get you some hot water at school."

When they reached the school yard, however, Nabiki noticed a young man, who appeared to be about college age, standing off to the side on the school grounds. She turned to Ranma. "You go on without me," she said, keeping her tone light. "I've got some business to take care of."

Ranma looked at the young man suspiciously. "What kind of business," he asked, raising a delicate eyebrow at her.

"Nothing you need to worry about." When Ranma continued to give her the evil eye, she sighed. "Look, Ranma, it's okay, really. It's for a good cause, even. Now go on before you miss all the morning classes and Hinako-sensei decides to drain you in spite of your excuse notes."

Ranma agreed... reluctantly. "Well, I gotta find some hot water anyway," he said.

"Okay. See you at lunch, Ranma." And with that, Nabiki walked off towards the strange man.

Ranma watched them go. _What in the world are you up to this time, Nabiki?_ he wondered.

His thoughts were rudely interrupted as he was suddenly glomped from behind, his arms pinned firmly against his sides. "Oh beauteous pig-tailed girl! How I despaired of ever casting mine eyes upon your heavenly visage again! When these noble ears caught the evil wind that the foul sorcerer Saotome was justly enchanted, yet knowing thusly that he has linked thy life with his own through dark magics, I feared lest I should never see you agai--!"

Snarling in fury, Ranma writhed desperately in Kuno's iron grip and managed to wrench one slender arm free. Reaching back, he grabbed Kuno by his shirt front and yanked hard, flipping the kendoist over his head and slamming him solidly into the ground, knocking the breath out of him, and effectively cutting off his speech.

"Stay away from me, Kuno," Ranma growled, standing over him and clenching his small fists at his sides. "I'm not in the mood to deal with you today, so just leave me alone, or I'm gonna have to beat you to a pulp."

"But pig-tailed girl!" Kuno wheezed. "I came not only to rejoice at your return, but to beg forgiveness at thy feet! Most convenient, since here I lie, and at thine own hand."

Ranma blinked, stunned, and looked at Kuno with wide eyes. It was an expression he would have consciously avoided a lot more in his girl form if only he knew how cute it made him look. Kuno was positively entranced.

"Wha...? Forgiveness? What the hell are you talking about, you idiot?" _Why am I standing here talking to Kuno?_ Ranma thought incredulously. _I should just pound his head in and be done with it._ Yet, even though he hated to admit it, there was a comforting familiarity in Kuno's abhorrent obsession. Here was something that _hadn't_ changed with the onslaught of the blood spell, and, irritating though it was, it was something he recognized as part of his former life.

It felt good to beat up Kuno again.

Kuno lay on his back with his arms folded across his chest and gazed up at him with adoring eyes. "Alas, the quandary of true love! Know now that my heart ever belongs to thee, my pig-tailed goddess. And yet this very morning as I roused myself from sleep, mine eyes beheld a most amazing sight! For, next to thy most sacred images on the walls of my bed chamber, I found images of a creature most fair! Delicate and beautiful as the blooming lily, yet fierce and powerful like a tigress. Truly, I can see no other explanation as to how these images came upon my walls than that the girl herself, longing for my person from afar, cast aside her fears of rejection and entered my chambers at night, stealing with such silent grace as to not awaken me from slumber. Thereupon, she placed her images next to thine, thinking not to compete with thine exquisiteness, yet hoping to arouse the fiery passions of this devout heart."

Kuno then clenched his fists, tears streaming from his eyes. "Oh, the pure love and fierce beauty of this mysterious maiden, who has yet to make herself known to me!" He turned to Ranma. "And yet, how can I abandon thee, who art yet so fair, to the horrible machinations of the evil Saotome?" Kuno sat up and thrust his fists in the air. "Oh curse you cruel Fate, to force such a dilemma upon this faithful soul! I would date them _both_!"

Ranma's jaw had sagged open, and his mouth was dry with astonishment. Unfortunately, Kuno mistook his expression for one of hurt betrayal. Which he would have done even if Ranma had been dancing around in ecstatic happiness.

"Fear not, my beloved. You need not be jealous of this sweet and innocent admirer. My great and noble heart has room enough for the both of you."

Normally, this would have been Ranma's cue to punt Kuno into the stratosphere. Actually, Ranma was so stunned, he'd already missed this cue several times.

"You... you still have pictures of Akane..." he whispered. _Nabiki said that the blood spell could have created physical evidence to convince me, to match my memory, but... even Kuno's pictures?_

Before he could think on that further, the spell voices chose that moment to break through his mental defenses. They swelled up painfully from the depths of his mind. "Augghh..." Ranma groaned and clutched his head, sinking down to one knee.

Kuno immediately went to sweep him up in an embrace. "Pig-tailed girl! What ails thee, my lo--" His face met Ranma's fist, and he collapsed once again to the pavement.

Ranma squinted his eyes shut and tried to focus, glad, at least, that he'd managed to halt Kuno's advances for the moment. He knew he couldn't concentrate and push the spell voices back with Kuno glomping on to him...

Kuno lay on the pavement looking up to the cloudless sky. "Oh, that my indecision has brought such pain to my beloved pig-tailed goddess! Mystery maiden, I foreswear thee! Until you make thyself known unto me face to face, I cannot love thee! Truly, my fire-haired beauty has seen fit to display her devotion..."

Ranma ignored Kuno's ramblings. Finding his center, he forced the thick, black spell voices from the forefront of his mind. They retreated reluctantly, clawing painfully for purchase in the middle of his thoughts. But they _did_ retreat, much to Ranma's relief.

He stood shakily and glanced at Kuno, who still lay on his back soliloquizing. Ranma grunted. "Later, Kuno," he muttered, and ran towards the school in search of hot water, trying to ignore the ringing in his ears left by spell voices.

--------------------

Nabiki halted around the corner of the high school building when she was sure they were out of anyone's sight or hearing range. She turned to the young man. "All right, Shiotani. What's the report?"

The man named Shiotani bowed deeply to Nabiki. "There is something... odd going on, Tendo-san. It's just a little thing, it's probably nothing, but since you demanded a report on anything unusual..."

"Just get to the point," she said.

"Well," the man held out a tri-folded sheet of paper. "The list of instructions you left with each of the distributors... We noticed that some of them don't make sense. Nobody noticed it before, but now... We thought you should know about it, and wondered if you wanted us to release the tape."

Nabiki frowned, her eyes narrowing as she took the paper from the man and unfolded it. She scanned it briefly.

Her eyes widened, and the blood drained from her face.

"Tendo-san? Is everything okay?"

Nabiki swallowed and looked up. "I..."

"Do you want us to release the tape?"

"No!" Nabiki closed her eyes and steadied herself. "No. Don't release it yet. I have to think about this, figure out how this could have happened. There's still a chance that this is just... I have to be sure." She opened her eyes and handed the paper back to Shiotani. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

The young man looked at Nabiki, and hesitantly raised an eyebrow. "Are... are you sure you don't want to release the tape? You said..."

"I'm sure," she snapped. Then she straightened, and her calm demeanor reasserted itself. "I'll get back to you on this within the next 24 hours," she said. "Until then, hold the tape. It... it could do more damage than good if you were to release it now."

The young man bowed, but his eyes were troubled. "Very well, Tendo-san. I shall inform the others."

--------------------

A male, slightly damp Ranma entered the classroom with no small amount of trepidation. Hinako-sensei paused in the middle of her lecture and favored him with a sickeningly cute glare as, with a sharp flip of her hand, she produced a five yen coin perched perfectly between her index and middle fingers.

"Ranma Saotome, you naughty delinquent!" she piped in her child-like voice. "Not only have you skipped school for the past four days, but you show up an hour late for class! You need to be disciplined. _Happo five-yen satsu!_"

"Wait, wait!" yelled Ranma as she began to drain his ki. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the notes from his father and Doctor Tofu. "I wasn't skipping school, I was... sick. See? I have notes from my doctor even."

Hinako paused in draining his ki to examine the notes. "Hmm," she said at last. "Very well. Take your seat, Mr. Saotome."

Ranma breathed a sigh of relief and sat down behind his desk, trying to ignore the stares he was receiving from his classmates. The last thing he needed was to have his ki drained. It was taking almost everything he had to hold the spell voices at bay. It worried him. He wondered if they were getting stronger, or if he was getting weaker.

"Hey Ranma." Ranma turned at the whisper to see Daisuke, his friend who sat across from him, leaning over his desk. "Were you really sick? We heard that Shampoo girl had cast some weird Chinese spell on you."

"Yeah," added Hiroshi, who was sitting behind him. "We heard that it totally made you fall in love with her, and that you two were going to run off to China."

Ranma glared at them. "Don't be stupid," he said. "Shampoo didn't do nothin' to me. It was some dragon in China. And I ain't in love with her," he finished.

"So what _did_ the spell do to you, then?"

"Yeah, we heard you were really out of it."

Ranma scowled fiercely. "Jeeze, you guys are nosey! Can't a guy have some privacy?"

"Come on, Saotome. You can't leave us in the dark. Whaddit do to you?"

"None of your busine--"

_Whap!_

Ranma suddenly found himself choking on chalk dust from the eraser that had just smacked against the side of his head.

"Mr. Saotome, for talking in class, go stand in the hall." Hinako-sensei's child face was pinched in a severe frown.

"But... but I..." Ranma stuttered. He realized with a sinking feeling that he had raised his voice while trying to get his friends off his back.

But before he could protest further, Hinako's coin flashed between her fingers. "_Now_, Mr. Saotome."

Ranma sighed. "Yes ma'am."

_Aw, man, I shoulda stayed home._

--------------------

Standing in the hall holding buckets, Ranma leaned against the wall and looked over his shoulder. This, like his encounter with Kuno, was familiar. But then, according to his memory, he usually got in trouble for fighting with Akane.

_Akane..._ Ranma's eyes misted in frustration. Was she real or not? Was she a figment of the blood spell, or his... his fiancée, trapped in the Kami Plane, waiting for him to keep his promise to find her? All of the questions and fears and doubts of the morning rose up in him once again. He wondered about Kuno and the mysterious pictures. It was easier to believe that Kuno had forgotten Akane than that the blood spell had created the pictures just to fit Ranma's memory...

Or was that just his wishful thinking..?

Ranma groaned silently. It came down to which was more plausible -- the blood spell creating physical evidence to fit his memory, or the blood spell erasing Akane from the minds of everyone who knew her. Either one sounded far-fetched, and yet it had to be one or the other... Didn't it?

If the blood spell wasn't responsible for what was happening, either to him or to everybody else, what was?

It was too confusing. Too many questions, and no answers in sight. Ranma closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. The spell voices tickled the back of his consciousness, trying to break through to the forefront of his thoughts. He ignored them.

Instead, he thought of Akane. Not caring if the memories were real or not.

With his eyes closed, he could almost imagine her standing next to him in the hallway. A smile tugged at his lips as he pictured her, glowing with indignant anger and threatening to splash him with her bucket of water after he had teased her over some frivolous thing...

His smile faded. He had teased her so often, said things without thinking when he should have kept his mouth shut. All because he was too damn scared to admit that he... cared for her. That he would die for her. That the thought of losing her forever made him crazy with grief...

He knew he had hurt her. Going too far with the name calling, or making fun of her martial arts abilities or her cooking...

He would eat a whole room full of her cooking if it meant he could see her again.

His thoughts went back to the brief moment when he saw her in the Kami Plane. How... how beautiful she was, even when she was crying. How her deep brown eyes glistened when she told him that... she loved him.

Ranma felt his heart tremble in his chest. In spite of everything he'd done to her, all the pain he'd caused her because he was too afraid to show her how he really felt, she loved him.

And now he might never get the chance to tell her the truth. Because she was either sealed away from him in the Kami Plane, or didn't exist at all.

Ranma looked at the floor as his vision swam with tears, and his fists clenched tightly around the bucket handles. _It's not fair. Why does this stuff always happen to me? First I get saddled with this stupid curse, and now..._

The bell rang, and the students of Furinkan High came swarming from the classrooms into the halls.

"Hey, look, Ranma's back."

"Really? I heard he was enchanted or something."

"No way. Again? How many times can a guy get cursed?"

"Hey, Ranma, is it true?"

"What's wrong with him? He's just staring at the floor."

"Maybe he's in a trance..."

"Naw, he's faking. He just wants attention."

"As if he didn't get enough..."

"No, that's not it. I heard he was enchanted to fall in love with some imaginary girl that he made up in his mind."

"Oh jeeze. That's sick."

"Shut up, idiot. You want him to hear you?"

Ranma set the pails down, not looking up, his dark bangs hanging over his face. If everybody saw the unshed tears in his eyes, they would all get the wrong idea. This was that last thing he needed to deal with.

It had been a mistake to come...

"Oh man, did you see that? Ranma just jumped out the window."

"Third story."

"Figures. Show-off..."

"Aw, you're just jealous..."

Ranma ran across the school yard in a flash and was gone, not knowing where he was running to, and not caring.

--------------------

Nabiki stood on her tip toes and scanned the lunch mob. No sign of him. That in itself was worrisome, since Ranma almost always managed to snag the food he wanted, and usually made a spectacle of himself while he was at it. She saw one of the guys that he hung out with and snagged his arm.

"Hey, Hiroshi."

Hiroshi turned, and, when he saw it was her, he blanched. No doubt thinking of the money he owed her.

She grinned predatorily. "Don't worry, 'Roshi. I'm not here to collect on your... substantial debt. I'm trying to find Ranma. Have you seen him?"

Hiroshi put his hand behind his head in relief. "Uh, gee, Nabiki, last time I saw him he came in late for class, and then Hinako made him hold buckets in the hall for talking."

"Didn't you hear?" said Daisuke, coming up behind Hiroshi. "Ranma jumped out the window and took off after the first morning class. People who saw him said he was acting really weird." He looked at Nabiki inquiringly. "So, do you know what happened to him? I mean, he lives with your family, so you gotta know, right?" Knowing what it took to get Nabiki to divulge information, he reached into his pocket for his wallet.

_I'll tell you for 1,000 yen._ The words were on her lips, but never made it out. Instead, she gazed at him levelly. "You can't afford that information," she said. "Trust me. The price is way too high."

The two boys stared at her in amazement as she turned and walked away.

_Why did I do that? They would have paid, both of them. They're dying to know what's going on..._

She pushed those thoughts aside as an unfamiliar tightness filled her chest. She left the building and looked around the crowded school yard. There was no sign of him, no flash of red Chinese shirt, no bounce of dark pig-tailed hair.

_Ranma, where have you run off to?_

_Please be okay..._

She needed to talk to him, to make sure he was safe... and sane. Although she wasn't sure how talking to him would help, exactly. She herself felt disjointed and confused. She didn't understand what was going on, and that scared her.

Her thoughts kept returning to the instructions she had given to each of her hired "distributors" a few days before.

How, when she read the instructions again today, she found the very specific instruction that Ranma was to hear the tape if he or anyone else, by mysterious means, had their memory altered in any way in regards to one Akane Tendo, her little sister.

And the instructions were in her own handwriting...

A sister. A sister that she didn't know anything about, because she was nothing more than a figment of the blood spell in Ranma's mind.

A sister that Ranma loved...

If Akane was real, then Ranma was engaged to _her_...

_No. It can't be. It's just more physical evidence created by the blood spell_, she reasoned. _Like the room. That's all it is. If I had a younger sister, I'd remember her, I'm sure of it._

But the explanation, which had made so much sense before, now seemed hollow and forced. The doubt was there, weighing heavily in her stomach. And Nabiki scanned the crowd of students, searching for Ranma with a new understanding of what he might be feeling as, for the first time, she doubted the validity of the world around her...

"Nabiki!"

Nabiki turned to see who was calling her name, and saw Ukyo running towards her. The chestnut-haired girl wore a long figure-flattering cream sweater and black tights, and held a flat square box balanced on one hand.

"Nabiki," she said as she reached her. "Have you seen Ranchan? I heard he came back to school today, and I wanted to bring him some lunch."

Nabiki looked at the cute, cheerful okonomiyaki chef, and felt faint stirrings of... annoyance deep within her. "I haven't seen him since this morning," she said briskly. _And if I knew where he was, I certainly wouldn't tell you._

Ukyo frowned. "Come on, Nabiki. You know everything that goes on around here, it seems. You can't tell me that you've lost track of him. Okay, how much do you want?"

Nabiki bristled and felt herself losing her cool. "I don't _want_ your money," she said tightly. "I don't know where he is. I'm not his keeper, you know."

Ukyo blinked in surprise. "Sorry... I just thought--"

"You thought wrong."

Ukyo stared at Nabiki. The frost coming from her gaze nearly chilled her to the bone. _Jeeze, what's with _her_ all of a sudden?_

"Where Ranma?!" The shout that split the air announced the arrival Shampoo as her bike came to land next to a startled Ukyo and Nabiki. In one hand, the purple-haired Amazon held a Chinese take-out box by the handle.

Shampoo leaped off her bike and glared at Ukyo and her box of okonomiyaki. "You, not-nice girl! What you do with Ranma? Shampoo bring him lunch."

Ukyo crouched in a battle stance, her eyes narrowing. "Oh no you don't. I've already brought him some okonomiyaki."

"Girls." The word was soft, but piercing, and effectively silenced the two would-be combatants. They turned and looked at Nabiki, who stood with her eyes closed and her arms folded across her chest. "He's not even here, so you're both wasting your time." Her eyes opened, and she fixed Shampoo with a baleful stare. "Especially you," she said. "You have a lot of nerve, coming after Ranma like this."

Shampoo paled, knowing that Nabiki still had her taped confession, but held her ground, also knowing about the deal she had made with Cologne not to play it for Ranma unless they couldn't break the spell. Great-grandmother still had a day and a half to come back from China with a cure. "What Shampoo do for Ranma is none of your business," she said.

"Wrong, Shampoo. Nabiki's right," said Ukyo, glaring at the Amazon. "It's all your fault Ranma is suffering with this blood spell. Even if you really were captured by some dragon -- which I seriously doubt, I might add -- Ranma wouldn't be in this mess if you didn't keep claiming he was your husband."

Nabiki raised an eyebrow at this. Apparently, Ukyo wasn't as naive as she thought. Then again, she had good reason not to believe Shampoo...

Shampoo clenched her teeth as tears suddenly built behind her eyes, and she looked back and forth between Nabiki and Ukyo. "Shampoo no care what you think," she said softly, fighting the overwhelming feelings of guilt that rose within her. "Ranma believe Shampoo. That all that matter."

"Ranma believe Shampoo," Nabiki mimicked, gazing at her stonily. "But for how long?"

Shampoo blanched. Nabiki wouldn't go back on her word, would she? If she did, Shampoo would lose everything. But then if she did, great-grandmother wouldn't be bound to leave the Tendo family alone...

No. Nabiki cared about her family's welfare too much to break her word. "Shampoo not know why you care, sneaky girl," she said. "You no love Ranma. You use him. You sell pictures of girl-type without him knowing to make money."

Nabiki didn't realize that her hands had curled into fists. _So I've used Ranma to make a bit of profit now and then,_ she thought. _It helps pay for the food that he and his free-loading father eat at the dojo. That doesn't mean I don't..._

"Well then," she said, the calm of her voice belying the whiteness of her knuckles. "It should interest you to know that this very morning, our parents formalized the engagement between Ranma and I. He is now my fiance, and I am his _legitimate_ fiancée, since the deal made between our parents pre-dates all others Genma may have made. And your ridiculous Amazon law doesn't count either, of course."

Shampoo and Ukyo stared at her, stunned.

"You... you can't be serious," said Ukyo. "You don't really intend to marry Ranchan, do you? I mean, you don't... You never even..."

Nabiki turned her cool gaze on Ukyo. "I think that's between Ranma and myself, and none of your concern."

Shampoo's stunned expression slowly dissolved to anger. In the past few days, this brazen Tendo girl had practically destroyed any chance of happiness between herself and Ranma, and now she had the audacity to claim to be his fiancée? To mock the ancient laws of the Amazons? Shampoo's violet eyes sparked, and she drew herself up to face her enemy. "Feh," she said sharply. "If sneaky girl think Ranma marry her, she more fool than I thought. Ranma never marry girl so cold and heartless."

Ukyo's eyes widened, and she glanced between Nabiki and Shampoo nervously. She noticed that their little group encounter was attracting stares from all over the school grounds. She held her breath, and wondered if she should intervene on Nabiki's behalf if things got violent, which was a strong possibility considering the battle auras the two girls were suddenly giving off. After all, Nabiki didn't have any fighting skills that she knew of...

Nabiki stood silent a moment, meeting Shampoo's gaze. Her expression didn't change, but her eyes flashed fiercely. "Whether or not Ranma and I decide to honor our parents' agreement has yet to be decided between us," she said in a low voice. "But this I can tell you. Ranma will never marry you, Shampoo. He has never thought of you as more than a friend. And soon he may not even think that of you. So you'd better get used to the idea."

Shampoo cried out in fury, then crouched with a snarl. "Tendo Nabiki! I kill!"

Ukyo tensed, ready to intercept Shampoo--

"Remember the tape," Nabiki said sharply, not moving a muscle.

Shampoo froze. She stood trembling in her battle crouch, her fists clenched, her eyes tearing with frustration as she glared hatefully at Nabiki.

Then, with out warning, Shampoo's expression crumbled and she let out a low sob. Turning, she yanked her bike off the ground and sped off, leaving Nabiki, Ukyo and the ramen behind in a cloud of dust.

They stood in silence a moment.

"Uh..." said Ukyo. _What on earth just happened?_

"Look, Ukyo." Nabiki turned to her. Ever perceptive, she hadn't missed that Ukyo had planned to intercede on her behalf. She looked at the okonomiyaki chef, her expression calm. Yet her eyes glimmered with some unidentifiable emotion.

Ukyo blinked in surprise as she realized Nabiki was on the verge of tears.

"Ranma will marry whomever he chooses," Nabiki said steadily. "I'm not going to force him to honor the agreement our idiot fathers made almost seventeen years ago. Besides, I've never been one who likes to be bound by traditions as archaic as arranged marriages. So if Ranma decides to marry you, that's fine with me. I'll support him."

Nabiki's neutral expression quirked at the corners, and her mouth turned up in a tiny, self-depreciating smile that matched the wetness in her eyes. "But if, for some strange reason beyond my comprehension, he decides to stick to our fathers' agreement, I don't think I'll complain too loudly. I hope you don't begrudge me that."

Ukyo stared at Nabiki in wide-eyed disbelief. Then, she found herself returning the smile, blinking back her own tears, her expression softening with sympathy. "I should have known," she said. "He's gotten to you too, hasn't he."

To her astonishment, Nabiki flushed and lowered her gaze. Ukyo chuckled, a bit sadly. "That's my Ranchan," she said, sighing. "The human fiancée magnet. And now he's even got an imaginary fiancée, thanks to this horrible blood spell."

"Yes," said Nabiki, refusing to think about the... other possibility. At least for the moment. She straightened. "That's what we should be worrying about right now. Ranma's not going to be in any shape to do anything unless that blood spell is broken. He looked okay when I last saw him this morning, but I've been told that he ran off after the first class."

Ukyo's expression creased with sudden worry. "Well, then, let's go find him, shall we?" She gestured in the direction of the of the neighborhood.

Nabiki nodded. "Okay." They headed off the school grounds together.

"I hope..."

Nabiki trailed off hesitantly.

"Yeah," said Ukyo. "Me too."

Nabiki glanced at her, wondering if Ukyo really knew what she was going to say.

She smiled a little as she realized it didn't matter.

--------------------

Ranma sat under the bridge on the bank of the canal, staring sightlessly at the barges floating past, his ears not hearing the gentle lapping of the water against the shore line.

It was so hard to think. Nothing made sense anymore. Ranma felt his mind gradually shutting down in self-defense against the onslaught of spell voices and reality paradoxes that were assaulting him. He didn't even know how long he'd been sitting there, unmoving, staring at nothing, withdrawing deeper into himself where it was safe.

A long time, probably. His legs felt a little cramped.

"Ranma Saotome?"

Ranma blinked and turned slowly to the young man who had just walked up to him. A part of his mind that was still active vaguely recognized him as the man Nabiki walked off with this morning. He blinked again, willing his eyes to focus, but was unsuccessful.

The man knelt next to him. "Here," he said, handing him a small package. "I've been instructed to give this to you. If Tendo-san says anything, tell her I was simply following her original instructions to the letter, which included ignoring any instructions she gave afterwards that sounded suspicious, or went against the original agenda."

Ranma stared blankly at the package in his lap.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Ranma responded automatically. Lifelessly.

The man frowned. "Aren't you going to open it?" When Ranma didn't move, the man sighed. "Okay, whatever. I'm supposed to make sure you listen to this, so here, let me have it." He took the package from Ranma's limp hands and opened it to reveal a small cassette player with headphones attached. He put the earphones over Ranma's ears and pressed the play button.

"There," he said. "I've done my job. See you around, kid." The man walked away, knowing from experience that the less he knew about what was on that tape, the better.

Ranma sat, his besieged mind barely registering the words that sounded in his ears at first.

Fortunately, it was a long-playing tape, and Nabiki had made sure the whole thing was filled with the vital conversation, repeated over and over...

Gradually, Ranma's eyes began to clear...

--------------------

The Snow Woman stood at the edge of her realm. Behind her lay a white crystalline wasteland; above her an unmercifully cold and clear night sky. The piercing stars gazed down on her without pity.

Two weeks, and Akane had not returned. Yuki-onna raised her slender white hands and pressed them against the prickly energy of her barrier. Beyond the barrier lay the mists of Kami that separated the different realms from each other. It was into those very mists that Akane had ventured two weeks previous without a backwards glance for her former friend and protector.

All because of that boy...

The mists in front of her began to stir.

_Ah_, she thought. _It comes at last_.

The mists swirled and parted. From the darkness emerged a pair of narrowed yellow eyes with slitted pupils, and the flicker of black ki. The Shadowcat padded silently up to the edge of the barrier in front of the Snow Woman.

**I am here, Snow Woman.** It sent the words into her mind. **I am curious as to why you, who has abhorred my kind for so long, have sent me such a gracious invitation.**

The Snow Woman smiled at the demon, her frost-blue eyes glinting. "I have a proposal for you," she whispered.

--------------------

End of Part Eleven


	13. Revenge is a Dish Best Served...

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 12: Revenge is a Dish Best Served...

by Krista Perry

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Ryoga looked up at the street sign just outside the market with a complete lack of recognition, and felt his cheek twitch, just under his left eye.

He'd done it again.

He looked down at the bag of groceries he carried in his arms, his expression twisting in anxiety. Kasumi-san was expecting him to return with the food so she could make dinner. But it was almost dinner time, and he couldn't find his way back to the Tendo dojo.

Heck, it had taken him all morning and most of the afternoon just to find the market.

Well, he found _a_ market...

He turned in a full 360 degree circle, his eyes scanning in all directions, and failed to recognize a single thing. Except the familiar, bemused expressions on the faces of various pedestrians who couldn't help but stare at him, he was so obviously lost and confused...

Ryoga clenched his teeth as his frustration and depression grew. His fingers tightened convulsively on the fragile paper bag he carried, threatening to rend it and spill it's contents across the sidewalk.

_I'm never going to find my way back!_ he realized with growing panic. _And after Kasumi-san entrusted me with such a simple thing as picking up a few groceries! Now the Tendo family will have to go without dinner, all because of my lousy sense of direction!_

Ryoga's self-esteem shriveled under the piercing, familiar humiliation. It was all right for him to get lost every now and then, but not when people were depending on him. Ryoga clenched his eyes shut, trying to block out the anxiety that was steadily rising in him. But it was no use.

And somewhere, deep in the core of his soul, a familiar, habitual curse broke loose from the smothered depths and rose to the surface of his thoughts with a build-up of rage so great that he couldn't contain it and it burst forth from his throat with a cry--

"Damn you, Ranma! This is all your fault!!"

People stared and hastily backed away, giving Ryoga a wide radius. He didn't notice. Because, abruptly, his rage faded. Or rather, it was overwhelmed by a new feeling; a feeling of inexplicable perplexity. Ryoga froze and blinked in confusion.

He felt... ashamed. And sheepish. And he wasn't even sure why. After all, it was the most natural thing to blame Ranma for his misery, since he was the cause of most of it...

Still...

A puzzled frown slowly made its way across Ryoga's face. The past few days, ever since the blood spell had been cast on Ranma, he had found himself... thinking differently. As if his perspective had been altered. Could watching Ranma's suffering really have affected him so deeply...?

Like now. Instead of his rage towards Ranma building until he was practically incoherent with fury and filled with the desire to pound his rival's head in...

...he found himself thinking that Ranma _couldn't_ be responsible for his predicament. He hadn't even seen him since he left for school with Nabiki that morning. And he could hardly blame Ranma for his lousy sense of direction. He had been getting lost long before he met Ranma...

Ryoga looked down at the groceries in his arms, a strange feeling settling into his gut. It was too weird. Just over a week ago, he would have had a hard time admitting that. Even to himself.

But... ever since he saw the blood spell seep into Ranma, and then watched helplessly as Ranma's spell-induced psychosis caused him to waste away from despair over an imaginary girl... something had changed inside him. Something subtle and hard to pin down. Ryoga found himself actually feeling anxiety on Ranma's behalf. He found himself actually _worrying_ about Ranma. He actually hated to watch Ranma suffer from the effects of the blood spell that seemed intent on destroying his sanity...

That, in itself, was not unusual. The fact that he _admitted_ to himself that he was worried about Ranma, was.

And, in spite of everything Ranma had ever done to torment and humiliate him, he found he couldn't quite bring himself to be quite as... angry at his... friend...

His friend?

Ryoga shook his head in amazement. It was as if, in the days following the blood spell, the fog of anger that had clouded his mind for so long had gradually lifted. He felt as if he was thinking clearly for the first time in years.

Well, not clearly enough to find his way around...

Still, everything that had ever kindled his fury towards Ranma didn't seem nearly as earth-shattering and universe-rending as it had just a few days ago. Okay, so Ranma _was_ responsible... indirectly... for his curse. He would never have fallen into that cursed spring if Ranma hadn't knocked him off the cliff over Jusenkyo.

But then, Ranma wouldn't have knocked him off the cliff if he hadn't been so stubborn and stupid to follow Ranma all the way to China just to finish that stupid bread feud...

Ryoga's frown deepened at this new train of thought.

He knew Ranma didn't do it intentionally. It seemed Ranma _never_ caused problems intentionally. He was just a trouble magnet.

The frown softened; even turned up at one corner, changing to the wry smile that he wore often; the smile that spoke of knowing the harsh ironies of life on a personal basis. It seemed that he and Ranma were both cursed, in more ways than just the Jusenkyo curses they had in common: He had a lousy sense of direction, and Ranma... well, Ranma attracted major disasters.

He understood that now; understood that Ranma was as often the hapless victim of quirky fate as he was, if not more so. He had come to understand this in the past few days in a way he never had when he had followed Ranma to China so long ago, fueled by his anger at being betrayed... at being abandoned...

Ryoga paused. Then blinked as the thought came clearly into his mind for the first time in his life.

Abandoned.

That was it. The real reason behind his past vendetta against Ranma. The reason he'd never been able to put into words, so instead, he simply uttered his battle cry of "Ranma, prepare to die!"

Ryoga had always been alone. He had grown up alone. His parents, burdened with the same lousy sense of direction they had passed on to their son, were rarely ever home. He didn't have friends at school because he couldn't find the school building regularly enough to make friends. And when he actually _could_ find it, most of the other boys had made fun of him, saying that he must be really stupid to not be able to do something as simple as find his way to school on a regular basis.

Martial arts had been his only recourse, his only solace. And the only way to keep the other kids from teasing him. After all, it wasn't wise to tease a boy who could smash his fist through a few feet of solid concrete without even flinching.

Then one day, when he had happened to find his junior high school, Ranma showed up. Ranma Saotome, who, against school regulations, wore his hair long and pulled back into a pony-tail tied at the base of his neck.

His first encounter with Ranma was when his head became intimately acquainted with the soles of Ranma's feet as the pony-tailed boy snatched the last curry bread from his outstretched grasp, thus starting the infamous bread feud. On top of that, Ranma -- unlike the other boys who had long since given up out of fear of his prodigious strength and marital arts skills -- teased him for getting lost.

Ryoga felt the familiar rage stir deep in his chest at the memory. Ranma was so arrogant, so sure of himself... How dare he make fun of him?!

Then, just as quickly as it came, the rage inside him calmed. That was so long ago. Why should he get all worked up over something that happened years ago?

And, now that he thought about it; as the memory played itself through his mind... Ryoga was surprised to realize that even though Ranma had teased him, the teasing was without the malice that had spiked the words of his other classmates.

It was simply the way Ranma communicated; the only way he knew _how_ to communicate after a life on the road with his less-than-socially-minded father. And Ryoga, whose own parental guidance came in brief spurts of a few days over the span of his entire lifetime, had responded less than understandingly. In his mind, there was only one way to repair the damage Ranma inflicted to his shredded self-esteem.

But Ryoga couldn't beat him up. Couldn't even touch him, in fact. Ranma was too good, too quick. The fight was over in seconds.

They should have been enemies after that first fight. Ryoga thought they _were_ enemies. He had pushed himself off the ground, propping himself up on one elbow to wipe away the small streak of blood from his lip, glaring hatefully at the pony-tailed boy who stood over him.

Ranma grinned, and reached out his hand. "Hey, you're pretty good," he said. "Not as good as me, of course, but that's still the best fight I've had in ages. Better'n sparrin' with my old man, that's for sure."

Ryoga stared at the outstretched hand, speechless and frozen in disbelief. What was he doing?? Didn't he know that they were sworn enemies now?

"Come on," said Ranma, reaching down impatiently and hauling Ryoga to his feet. "Tell ya what. For giving me such a good fight, I'll take you to your house. I know you'll never find it on your own." He laughed. "Man, that sense of direction of yours is pretty amazing. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen you get lost on your way from class to the lunch room with my own two eyes."

Ryoga blinked, too stunned at the offer to get angry at Ranma's taunt.

He hadn't been able to find his home in days...

And nobody... _nobody_ had ever offered to help him before...

So instead of taking his revenge, he looked down at his feet and sullenly mumbled his address to Ranma, then allowed the pony-tailed boy to lead him home.

Ranma waved to him from the front gate. "Hey, I'll see you tomorrow morning," he called. "Don't want you to get lost on the way to school again, after all." And he laughed, springing up to walk on the fence.

Ryoga seethed at the laugh, and watched Ranma leave through narrowed eyes. But, deep inside, in a place his pride wouldn't admit existed, he was... grateful.

After that, Ranma showed up at his door every morning like clockwork to take him to school, and then led him home every night without fail. It was the longest stretch of time Ryoga had ever been able to attend school, and he found himself enjoying it.

But most of all, above everything else, he secretly enjoyed his fights with Ranma. Even the infamous bread fights in the lunchroom. Fighting with Ranma constantly forced him to stretch and grow in his abilities as he tried to find ways to defeat him. Then, just when he thought he had him for sure, Ranma somehow came up with a counter-technique, often making up the moves as he went along. It was infuriatingly frustrating, losing over and over again. But it was also a constant challenge; an obsession that kept his mind off the other... less appealing aspects of his life.

He knew Ranma enjoyed the fights as well (especially since he always managed to win). They fought almost constantly. The walks to and from school were more like one long extended battle. And the fights always started the same way. Ranma would taunt Ryoga, and Ryoga would attack him in a rage.

Yet, deep in the core of that rage was a tiny seed of gladness.

For two boys who had never been taught even the most basic communications skills, Ryoga and Ranma spoke the same language: Martial arts. And for Ryoga, fighting with a near equal opponent, an opponent who always forced him to stretch the limit of his abilities, was pure nirvana.

And so it was that, after four days of searching for the vacant lot behind his house, finding it at last, and yet not finding Ranma for the big bread feud duel, Ryoga was devastated.

And then, when Ryoga finally found his way home, Ranma again failed to show up to lead him to school.

Days passed, and no Ranma. When Ryoga found the school again weeks later, he was told that Ranma's father had taken him out of school to go on a training trip to China.

Abandoned. He'd been abandoned by his only... friend.

So, in his anger, Ryoga did the only thing he could think of. He followed to get revenge.

And got lost...

"Hey Ryoga."

Ryoga started at the sound of his name, and looked up. As he did, he realized that he had been walking aimlessly while absorbed in thought, and that he was no longer standing in front of the market he'd found. But that thought was pushed aside as he looked up at the wall beside him and saw Ranma looking down at him.

He blinked in surprise. "Ranma! What are you doing here?"

A faint smile touched Ranma's lips as he jumped down next to him; a smile that failed to reach his eyes. "Do you even know where 'here' is, Ryoga?"

Ryoga scowled. "I'll have you know that I'm just on my way back to the dojo after picking up a few things for Kasumi to fix for dinner, Ranma," he growled.

"Oh." Ranma reached up, grabbed Ryoga's shoulder, and spun him around. "Well then, if you're headed for the dojo, you should probably be going _that_ way."

Ryoga clenched his teeth, biting off a retort, and glared at Ranma as he fell into step beside him.

Then he realized something. Ranma looked different. Something about his expression. Ranma's face had lost the quiet despair that had permeated his countenance that morning...

"Hey," he said, surprised. "You look like you're feeling better, Ranma."

"I _am_ feeling better."

Ryoga blinked. There was a distinct hardness to Ranma's voice. "So, uh..." he said uncertainly. "The spell voices aren't bothering you anymore?"

"Oh, they're still in there. But I got 'em under control."

Ryoga glanced sidelong at Ranma. Ranma was staring straight ahead. His outward expression seemed calm, but Ryoga noticed that his jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes...

He swallowed. Ranma's eyes were filled with a cold, carefully controlled fury. He could tell immediately that it wasn't directed at him, but... it was an expression he'd never seen on his friend's face before.

It was damn scary.

"You sure?" he asked, shaken.

"Ryoga." That same, level voice. Ryoga knew he wasn't always the most perceptive person on the face of the earth, but it was hard not to notice Ranma's stranger-than-normal behavior. This was definitely not the Ranma he knew. Had the spell voices finally driven him off the deep end?

"What?" he asked carefully.

Ranma looked over at him, and Ryoga blinked, relieved, yet surprised to see that the fury was gone from his eyes, dissipated as if it had never been. Instead, Ranma seemed merely curious.

Yet something still wasn't right.

"Do you remember who gave you that P-Chan nickname?" Ranma asked.

"What?!" Ryoga stopped in mid-stride. Ranma had said and done some weird things since the blood spell, but this was totally off the wall.

Ranma stopped as well, and turned to face him. "Well, do you?"

"Of course I do! You call me that all the time, Ranma!" Ryoga yelled. Blood spell or not, Ranma had a lot of nerve twisting that old thorn in his side...

"Yeah," agreed Ranma calmly. "But who gave you that nickname? It sure wasn't me."

Ryoga blinked in shock, then his eyes narrowed. "Yes it was, Ranma," he snapped. "And you did it just to torment me, as usual."

Ranma snorted, and yet he looked strangely satisfied at Ryoga's reply. "Yeah, right. Like _I_ would come up with a name like 'P-Chan' when 'Bacon Breath' and 'Porky' suit you so much better."

Only the fact that he was carrying Kasumi's groceries kept Ryoga from pounding Ranma right there. "Shut up, Ranma! What do you know, anyway? Your memory's all messed up from the blood spell!"

Ranma looked at him, and the sudden seriousness of his gaze silenced him. Underneath that seriousness, Ryoga could feel that seething fury again. A fury so strong, that, were Ranma to let it loose, it would have made one hell of a battle aura. And yet Ranma had it carefully controlled so that it merely flickered in his eyes.

"You could be right, Ryoga," said Ranma gravely. "My brain might be totally scrambled because of the blood spell."

Then he lifted one hand to reveal a small cassette tape he was holding between two fingers. That small, disturbing smile touched his lips again. "But I don't think so."

Ryoga eyed the tape suspiciously. "What's that?"

"Proof." Ranma slid it into his pocket and patted it protectively.

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Ryoga, fighting to keep the anger from his voice. Ranma was definitely creeping him out. "What do you mean, 'proof?'"

But Ranma didn't appear to be listening. He just continued walking, staring ahead with a thoughtful, yet slightly troubled expression on his face.

Ryoga watched him in silence, a feeling of foreboding building in his gut.

"You were... in love with her, you know," Ranma said at last, quietly. A strange convoluted expression of anger, regret, sadness, and nostalgia played across his face. He snorted softly. "Huh. I hated it, hated how you could say it, and I... couldn't. And it drove me crazy, the way she never caught on to your curse. And you..." He raised an eyebrow and frowned, still staring straight ahead. "You were always sneaking into her..." He cut himself off, and glanced over at Ryoga.

Ryoga was looking at him, his eyes wide and worried, with a tinge of panic in them. _Oh man oh man. Ranma's completely lost it. He's talking about that imaginary girl in his head. He's completely lost touch with reality. What do I do now?_

It was almost as if Ranma could read his mind. He smirked, but his eyes were sad. "But then, you don't even remember that, do you," he said. "Even though the last time it happened was just over a week ago. Nobody remembers. Except me."

"Ranma..."

"Ryoga." Ranma cut him off abruptly. "I'm not crazy. Yes, I'm the one with the blood spell in my head. But whatever has made everybody forget Akane isn't the blood spell. It's something else. I don't know what, but..." Ranma's gaze hardened and the fury blazed in his eyes once again. His hand reached down unconsciously to cover the cassette tape in his pocket. "...I'm pretty damn sure I know who's behind it."

He stopped walking. Ryoga blinked, and realized that they were standing outside the gates of the Tendo dojo.

Ranma suddenly turned to him, and looked into his eyes. Ryoga was startled by the intensity he saw there; such a contrast to the bleak hopelessness he saw in Ranma that very morning. He wasn't sure which was more frightening.

"I'm gonna get her back, Ryoga. I don't know how, but I'm gonna find a way. And when I do, you'll probably remember her again. But I want you to know right now, once and for all -- Akane is my fiancée. And if you try to interfere again..." Ranma trailed off, then looked down, his dark bangs covering his eyes. His voice was firm, yet he sounded almost... reluctant. "Well, you're gonna have to fight me."

Ryoga blinked, not knowing what to say. This was completely out of his realm of experience. Ranma actually wanted to fight him for the imaginary blood spell girl? "Uh... That's okay, Ranma," he said soothingly. "She's all yours."

Ranma was silent a moment, then looked up. To Ryoga's great surprise, Ranma's mouth had turned up in a half smile. He clapped Ryoga on the back. "Good," he said, and then chuckled softly. "But somehow I get the feeling you're gonna regret those words. 'Cause, when the time comes, I'm gonna remind you of them. Then we'll see what happens."

"Huh?"

"Well, here's the dojo. See you later, Ryoga."

Ranma turned to leave. Ryoga shook himself out of his astonishment and grabbed Ranma's arm with his free hand, clutching the groceries in the other. "Hey! Where do you think you're going?" Ranma was obviously in no shape to be off by himself. Who knew what his delusions would lead him to do?

Ranma looked down at his arm where Ryoga grasped it in a steel grip. "Let go, Ryoga," he said. When he continued to hold on, Ranma frowned. "Look, I'm just going to check a couple of things out, okay? I was duped, and I'm not gonna get duped again."

The fire was back in Ranma's eyes. Ryoga could see that it still wasn't directed at him, but he could tell he was in for a serious fight if he didn't let go. But there wasn't time for that. And even if there was, he couldn't take the chance that he might lose, leaving Ranma with no one to watch out for him.

So he didn't let go. "Come on, Ranma," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "Kasumi's going to make dinner as soon as I give her this stuff. You don't want to miss dinner, do you?"

Ranma relaxed slightly.

Ryoga couldn't believe it. He'd said the right thing!

"Don't worry about it, Ryoga," Ranma said. "I'm not gonna do anything weird. I'm just gonna... visit Doctor Tofu. Then I'll be back."

Ryoga frowned. He was going to visit Doctor Tofu? That wasn't so bad... He relaxed his grip a little. "You promise you'll come right back?" he asked.

Ranma laughed shortly. "Jeeze, Ryoga, you sound like you're my mom or something."

Ryoga flushed and let go of Ranma's arm. "I do not!" he protested hotly. "See if I ever worry about..." He trailed off and grit his teeth as he realized what he just said.

Ranma laughed again, yet surprisingly refrained from teasing him on the inadvertent admission. "You know," he said wryly, "I almost kinda like it this way. At least it's a hell of a lot better than you trying to kill me all the time." His smile turned rueful. "Too bad you had to forget Akane for it to be like this. I hope that when I get her back..."

Ryoga shifted the groceries to his other arm, more out of mental than physical discomfort. "Just hurry back from Doctor Tofu's, okay?" he said irritably. Perhaps Doctor Tofu could help Ranma regain his senses, at least temporarily until Cologne came back from China with the cure. It was a good thing she was due back tomorrow. "Don't do anything stupid."\

Ranma nodded and grinned. And if it weren't for the look in his eyes, he would have looked a lot like his old care-free self. "Don't worry, Ryoga. I'll come right back," he said, then turned and ran off into the growing darkness.

Ryoga watched him go, and wondered, with a sick feeling in his gut, if he'd done the right thing to let him leave.

--------------------

The phone rang.

Nabiki reached over with lightning speed and grabbed it. "Hello?"

"Nabiki?"

"Ukyo! Any luck?"

Ukyo's voice was suddenly worried. "Nothing. I was hoping you would tell me he'd come home."

Nabiki's smooth features creased in an anxious frown. _Damn it, Ranma, where are you?_ "No, nobody here has seen him since this morning. But I'm hoping he might show up for dinner."

Ukyo sighed heavily. "Okay. I'll keep looking for him. You'll call and leave a message if he shows up, won't you?"

"Of course. Good luck."

"Thanks. I'll need it. I... I'm afraid that if Ranchan doesn't want to be found, the chances are I won't find him."

Nabiki was silent a moment. "Don't give up, Ukyo. You'll find him." It was more of a gentle order than encouragement.

Ukyo understood. "Okay," she said softly, trying to sound hopeful. "I'll call you. Bye."

"Bye."

Nabiki hung up the phone on her desk.

And stared at the tape in her hand.

She hadn't listened to it.

She was worried about Ranma. But she wasn't sure if she was worried that he was lost somewhere, slowly losing his mind because of the blood spell...

...or worried that he was completely sane...

She looked at the tape.

She thought she already knew what it said. But then, she thought she knew what instructions she had written for her distributors. And the instructions she'd read that morning, in her own handwriting, were a far cry from what she remembered actually writing down.

But it came pretty damn close to substantiating Ranma's claim that Akane, his imaginary blood spell fiancée, was real. Was her little sister. And that they'd all forgotten her.

Even worse, her handwritten instructions implied that she herself had been worried about that very thing happening.

Nabiki rubbed her hand against her eyes. She might be able to find out for sure. All she had to do was listen to the tape.

Then again, the tape might not even mention Akane. From what she remembered, all it contained was Shampoo and Cologne discussing the fact that they cast the blood spell, and that they might be able to remove it, if necessary. The tape might not prove anything.

_Why am I so reluctant to do this?_ she thought angrily, knowing the answer even as she asked the silent question.

She sighed.

She thought of the first time she'd seen Ranma. In girl form, draped over Genma-panda's shoulder like a sack of rice, protesting loudly. She remembered how disappointed she'd been when she found out that the fiance daddy had arranged to marry either her or Kasumi was actually a girl. And she thought of how... disgusted she'd been, when Ranma's curse was revealed. How could either she or Kasumi be expected to marry a half-man? And a half-man who was a year younger than her, as well?

She'd never held much stock in arranged marriages. But when daddy had told her that Ranma was coming from China to meet them, deep underneath her fiercely independent, clinically calculating intellect that insisted that romance was for the weak-willed and the perpetually needy... she had secretly hoped that the fiance would be someone... special.

Ranma turned out to be special, all right. _Way_ too special for her discriminating tastes.

And yet, over the past year, she had watched Ranma, and had come to know him as more than just a gender-changing freak of nature and magic.

He was strong. And drop-dead gorgeous -- when he was male. Those sleek muscles... those blue eyes... his athletic grace...

Nabiki sighed and shook her head. There was much more to Ranma than just his body. Unfortunately, it had taken her a long time to realize that, since she'd spent so much time capitalizing on said body -- both the male and female half -- and very little time getting to know _him_.

Still, she had, in spite of all efforts to remain aloof, come to know him. And in doing so, had come to understand in a measure, not only why so many girls had fallen in... lust... with him, but also how a few rare, perceptive girls, like Ukyo, actually loved him for who he was.

A small, knowing smile flickered briefly on her face. She knew that whoever Ranma married would be one very lucky woman -- in more ways than one.

Her smile faltered. Even so, she hadn't seriously considered an engagement to Ranma. Not until this past week, at least. After all, their interests were too diverse. She was smart, canny, and she had big plans for her... future in society.

Ranma was... a barbarian. But an honorable barbarian. A sweet, naive barbarian, whose posturing machismo was a thin cover for his deep insecurities. He was so self-conscious about his curse...

But his curse didn't matter.

Didn't someone once say that opposites attract?

Nabiki groaned in frustration and slammed her fist on the table. She looked at the tape.

Real or not, Ranma loved this Akane girl.

But... Akane might not be real...

If she was real, that meant...

Nabiki pressed the heels of her hands against her temples. Her instincts were screaming at her. She was missing something. Something vital. She clenched her teeth. Her desires were interfering with her ability to discover the truth. She hated that feeling, hated not being in control, hated knowing that her normally keen perception was being colored by her emotions...

_Akane _couldn't_ be real. Think of Ranma's behavior... acting desperate, lovesick, heartsick... He's _never_ acted that way before now. It's got to be the blood spell..._

_Just play the tape..._

_Not yet..._

Nabiki felt a scream of frustration building in her. This whole week, especially the past few days had been so taxing. Matching wits with Cologne was not an easy task. And even though she succeeded in getting the confession from the old ghoul and the bimbo, she couldn't help but feel...

Something clicked.

The past week. She'd only started thinking seriously of an engagement with Ranma this past week. Since the blood spell.

Why only the past week? Why had her feelings changed?

Nabiki felt her eyes widen, and her heart began to pound.

No. Not her feelings. Her feelings were the same. Why had her _thinking_ changed?

Perhaps Ranma wasn't the only one who had been affected...

Perhaps... there was more to this than just the blood spell at work...

Nabiki grit her teeth. Perhaps she'd underestimated Cologne.

According to Ranma, Akane was supposed to be her little sister. Her sister, whom Ranma was engaged to. Whom Ranma... loved.

If that was true, and she had forgotten about this sister; about this sister's engagement to Ranma, then there would be nothing to keep her own feelings from...

With trembling fingers, Nabiki slipped the tape into her stereo, put the headphones on, and pressed 'play.'

She listened.

"I tell you, great-granddaughter, that boy is practically yours. When he finally accepts the fact that he'll never see Akane again, he'll fall right into your arms, and you'll be there to comfort him and be his wife. Then your honor will be restored, and we will all return home together."

Nabiki continued to listen, her face an expressionless mask.

She refused to allow the tears that brimmed in her eyes to fall.

--------------------

Kasumi walked up the stairs, intent on telling Nabiki that dinner was ready. She stopped outside the storage room and frowned slightly at the little wooden duck that bore the name "Akane."

She shook her head. Tomorrow she would have to do something about all that stuff that Ranma had managed to drag in there to make the storage room appear as though it were a girl's room. She didn't think it was healthy to have it around much longer, since it only served as a constant reminder of Ranma's blood-spell induced... illness.

_Poor Ranma_, she thought sadly. _The boy's been through so much... It's not fair_.

She reached out to take the duck nameplate off the door.

"Kasumi, don't."

Kasumi turned to see Nabiki, who had just come out of her room. "Oh, Nabiki. I was just coming to tell you that dinner is ready."

"Has Ranma come back yet?"

Kasumi shook her head. "I'm afraid not. But Ryoga said he saw him right before he returned with the groceries. He said Ranma was on his way to see Doctor Tofu."

A spark of relief flashed through Nabiki's eyes so quickly, Kasumi wasn't sure if she'd imagined it. Then Nabiki nodded briskly, her natural business-like demeanor slipping on like a comfortable sweater. "Good," she said. "I'm glad we know where he is. We need to go get him."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Is everybody downstairs, Kasumi?"

"Well, yes, they're waiting for dinner..."

"Good." Nabiki put a hand on Kasumi's arm, and looked at the duck nameplate her sister had been about to remove. "I've just discovered something that everybody needs to know."

--------------------

Ranma didn't go to see Doctor Tofu.

He stood outside the Nekohanten, his fists clenched tightly at his sides as he struggled to control his fury. Nabiki's words from nearly a week ago rang in his mind...

_Just make sure you get them to reverse the spell _before_ you kill them, Ranma._

Shampoo and Cologne had lied to him. And he had fallen for it. Taken the bait, hook, line and sinker.

Ranma's battle aura began to flare around him, but he focused, and forced the fury-fed energies back down.

Who knew how Akane had suffered because of the time he had wasted, sitting around, waiting to receive help from the very two who were responsible for the blood spell that had spirited Akane away, trapping her in the Kami Plane...

It was his own fault. He should have known he couldn't trust the old ghoul. And Shampoo... Shampoo had played some sneaky, underhanded tricks on him in the past, but those had always been virtually harmless, aside from the blows to his pride. For her to do _this_...

No. He had to control his temper. That was how he had been fooled so easily last time, because he wasn't thinking clearly. He had to stay calm.

For Akane's sake.

He reached out and opened the new front door of the restaurant -- the one that replaced the door he had shattered with his fist almost a week ago -- and went in.

It was the dinner rush. Shampoo and Mousse were serving customers as fast as they could manage to prepare the food.

Ranma hesitated, but then realized he didn't care if this encounter took place in public. He'd waited too long anyway.

A few customers near the entrance noticed him, noticed his countenance, and quietly excused themselves from the restaurant.

Shampoo caught sight of him on her way to serve a patron, and her expression lit up. "Aiya! Ranma, you come visit Shampoo?"

Then she saw his face.

She paled. The bowl of ramen she was balancing on her hand slipped from limp fingers to smash on the floor.

Ranma's blue eyes burned into her own with a fury so intense, she was afraid it would consume her right there.

Ranma didn't trust himself to speak just yet, so he kept silent. Just as well. The shattering bowl of ramen had alerted the other patrons to oncoming disaster, and they were quickly making themselves scarce.

Mousse came up behind Shampoo and peered at him through his glasses. "Ranma? What are you doing here? What's going on?"

Ranma glanced at him, then back to Shampoo. "Ask Shampoo," he said hoarsely. "She knows a hell of a lot more than she's been telling."

Mousse bristled. "How dare you speak about Shampoo that way! Especially after everything she's done to help you with the blood spell!"

Shampoo wasn't listening to Mousse's defense. She was staring at Ranma's fists. They were clenched at his sides, white-knuckled. Slowly, from the palms of his hands, blood began to seep through his fingers where his nails were digging into his own flesh. Ranma didn't appear to notice.

"Well, Shampoo?" he said. His voice was carefully flat.

"S-Shampoo not... know what you talking..." she managed weakly. _Oh gods, his _eyes_..._ She'd never seen such fury, such betrayal, not even the first night she returned after casting the blood spell. And Ranma's deadly calm, as opposed to his normal fiery temper, was the most frightening thing of all...

_Back-up plan, back-up plan... What was it?!_ Shampoo's eyes were fixed on Ranma's bleeding hands... She seemed mesmerized by the tiny red droplets that were slowly working their way from between his fingers and down Ranma's white knuckles...

drip...

He was hurting himself, and he was so angry, he couldn't feel it _Oh Ranma I'm so sorry what have I done please forgive me all I wanted..._ Her thoughts were a jumbled babble as panic and despair swelled within her like a rising tide.

drip...

_Backup plan... Oh!_

"Ranma." Her voice was shaking, matching the rest of her body. She was trembling uncontrollably. Another lie. Another lie to cover the lies. She hated it. It was never supposed to be like this. "What wrong, Ranma? You... you angry at Shampoo? Is... dragon's spell to make you hate Shampoo working...?"

That should have made him pause. Should at least have given him second thoughts, making him wonder what the source of his anger really was.

_That's it, Ranma. Whatever has made you angry is just the result of the blood spell. That's all it is. Magically induced emotion that you can overcome, because you're so strong, and brave, and honorable..._

Ranma's cold countenance cracked, and he grimaced as if in pain, the faint red flicker of a barely suppressed battle aura flaring around his form. He unclenched one bleeding hand and reached into his pocket.

He pulled out the tape.

Shampoo felt her world shatter.

Ranma knew everything. She had Failed.

Ranma held the tape out. "Do you know what this is, Shampoo?"

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She felt her throat close off, and she sank to her knees as quiet, heaving sobs began to wrack her body.

Ironically, tears wouldn't come.

"Shampoo, what's wrong?" Mousse was torn between his concern for Shampoo, his fury towards Saotome, and his general confusion as to what was happening. "Shampoo, are you alright? Ranma!" Mousse turned in what he hoped was Ranma's direction. "What have you done to Shampoo?!"

Ranma just looked at Shampoo. At her reaction. At the final proof.

So he was right. Nabiki had been using this tape to blackmail her. And Shampoo had done something wrong, had slipped up somehow, because he had been given the tape.

He wondered what she'd done...

"Ranma! You shall pay for what you've done to Shampoo! Prepare to die!"

Mousse launched himself at Ranma, steel blades flying from his sleeves.

Ranma ducked smoothly, dropping to the floor, and, with a lifting kick, sent Mousse flying over his head and into the wall behind him.

Ranma jumped to his feet. "Stay out of this, Mousse," he said in a low voice, watching as the Chinese boy slid down the wall head first. "This is between me and Shampoo."

"Saotome," wheezed Mousse as he rolled over and pushed himself up to his feet. More blades flicked out from his sleeves, ready to launch. "I won't let you hurt her."

"I'm not gonna hurt her," said Ranma softly. But Mousse wasn't listening. He charged again. In one swift movement, Ranma moved out of the way and brought his elbow down hard on the back of Mousse's head as the boy moved past him...

Mousse's eyes went blank as he lost consciousness and collapsed to the floor.

"Sorry, Mousse," whispered Ranma. He turned and looked at Shampoo who was staring at him, misery and guilt etched harshly across her features.

Ranma felt his anger sliding away under a wave of desperation.

Yes, he was still angry at Shampoo. Furious at Cologne. He knew the truth at last. But at the moment, he didn't care that Shampoo cast the blood spell. That wasn't what mattered.

"I..." Ranma's voice cracked. Shampoo knelt before him, sobbing silently, as if awaiting judgment. "I don't wanna fight you, Shampoo. I just want you to remove the blood spell." A note of pleading seeped into his hoarse voice as tears built behind his eyes.. "I just... want you to bring Akane back."

Shampoo's heart rent it two

She knew who Akane was. Not because she remembered, but because of the detailed account of the circumstances of the blood spell great-grandmother had left for her. She knew she had cast the spell specifically to get rid of this girl... this obstacle.

The grief she saw in Ranma's eyes because of this forgotten girl was worse than the anger, if such a thing was possible. And all she wanted when she cast the blood spell was for Ranma to look at her with love.

"Ranma..." she whispered. "I so sorry..."

"If you're sorry," said Ranma brokenly, "then remove the blood spell."

Shampoo shook her head, her eyes wide. Now the tears came, welling up and spilling down her cheeks. "I no can..."

Ranma fell to his knees and gripped her by the shoulders. His bleeding hands stained the crisp white of her apron. "You have to, Shampoo! You did this to me!"

She continued to shake her head, her expression a rictus of guilt and grief as the tears streamed down her face. Ranma's face twisted in desperation and anger, and his fingers involuntarily clenched on her shoulders, making her wince in pain. "Please, Shampoo!"

"Is no cure..." she whispered. "Is no cure..."

Ranma's eyes widened in horror. He released Shampoo's shoulders and sat back heavily on his heels. "No... cure?" His throat constricted as cold tendrils of fear and despair once again threaded their way around his heart. The droning mantras of the spell voices rang in the back of his mind fatalistically, singing their song of hopelessness to his soul. "You mean... there's no way to break the blood spell?"

Shampoo nodded.

"You're... lying..."

Shampoo was silent. But she didn't have to say anything. Ranma could see the truth in her eyes.

He felt his body and mind go numb with shock. _No cure..._

_Akane..._

And the spell voices, strengthened by the surge of despair, raged up and out of Ranma's careful mental barriers. Ranma gasped in pain at the sudden onslaught, and clutched his temples with his bleeding hands.

Shampoo cried out. "Ranma!"

Mousse lifted his head groggily from where he lay prostrate on the restaurant floor. "Sh-Shampoo..." He pushed himself to his knees and saw the blurry images of Shampoo and Ranma kneeling across from each other. Ranma was trembling as he desperately struggled to focus enough to push the spell voices back, but Mousse didn't notice that. All he saw through his thick lenses was Shampoo crying.

And the bright red blood stains on her apron. Matching the smears of blood on Ranma's hands, pressed on either side of his head.

A murderous glint flashed through Mousse's eyes as he stood shakily. "Rannmaaa!" he growled fiercely. "I don't care if you are under the influence of the blood spell! You shall pay for hurting Shampoo!"

Shampoo looked up to see Mousse standing over an unresponding Ranma, his blades poised to launch from his sleeves. "No! Mousse, stop!" She jumped up and leaped in front of Mousse, shielding Ranma with her body.

Mousse froze as he looked into the tear-stained face of the woman he loved. "Shampoo," he said, stunned. "What are you doing? Why are you protecting him when he's hurt you like this?"

"Mousse," she said softly, and she lowered her gaze, unable to meet his eyes. Her voice was leaden. "Ranma no hurt Shampoo. Shampoo... hurt Ranma."

A chill ran through Mousse at the unnatural, dead tone of her voice. He looked over at Saotome, noticing for the first time how Ranma seemed to be in an agony greater than any that could be caused by a simple flesh wound, as he desperately clutched his head...

_Ah,_ Mousse realized. _The spell voices again..._

Then he froze. _Shampoo... hurt Ranma?_

Suddenly, all the little suspicions he'd held at bay for so long surged to the forefront of his mind, and Mousse stared at Shampoo, his eyes widening behind his glasses. He'd suspected... But no, Shampoo wouldn't... She was too honorable for...

"Shampoo." he said. "You didn't..."

She nodded. Her voice was quiet, miserable, yet strangely resigned. "I cast blood spell, Mousse. I pay blood price. I trade my blood for dragon blood."

Mousse looked at her, wanting to disbelieve with all his heart. But he couldn't. Because he could see in her face that it was true.

He looked past her shoulder at Ranma, who knelt, groaning, seemingly oblivious to the two people watching over him as he continued to clutch his temples in pain.

Mousse felt something twinge inside him. An unpleasant thought rose unbidden. _This... is what Shampoo does to the man she... loves?_

The thought left him cold, and he pushed it from him.

"Is he... going to be okay?" he asked at last.

"He fight spell voices," answered Shampoo listlessly. "I put spell voices in head so Ranma know Akane alive, but no can find her. They supposed to fade away when he... give up on her and fall in love with Shamp... with me. But Ranma no..." She trailed off into silence and watched helplessly as Ranma battled the unnatural forces she'd placed inside him.

Mousse frowned. Shampoo was speaking as if Akane was a real person, and not just a blood spell figment created for Ranma to obsess over...

But then... it hardly made sense that Shampoo would cast a spell that would make Ranma fall in love with some imaginary... girl...

_Oh no..._

"Shampoo," said Mousse firmly, in spite of the sick feeling building in his stomach. It was the same feeling both he and had Ranma shared on the day the blood spell hit. "Who is Akane?"

Shampoo knew exactly what he meant, and she answered accordingly, in the same lifeless, defeated voice. "Akane Ranma's... fiancée. She trapped in Kami Plane, and Kami Plane make everybody but Ranma forget her."

Mousse closed his eyes. So Ranma had been telling the truth. He really had lost the girl he loved. And now he was apparently fated to have the spell voices in his mind permanently, since there was no way he would ever fall in love with Shampoo now, and she seemed to believe that was the stipulation for his release.

Mousse... felt bad for Ranma. Even the jealous voice inside him, that normally would have been screaming that Ranma brought this upon himself because of his womanizing ways, was silent.

"Shampoo, there has to be a way to break the blood spell," he said, opening his eyes and looking through his glasses at the curled-up blur that was Ranma. He could hear that the pig-tailed boy was using breathing techniques to focus and even out his breathing, and was gradually relaxing; evidence that he was pushing the spell voices back once again.

"Shampoo..." She wasn't listening to him. She was just staring at Ranma, her violet eyes no longer wet, but dull and lifeless, like a doll's eyes, as she numbed herself to the evidence of her crime before her. "Shampoo..." He took her by the shoulder, to shake her out of her stupor.

She turned and slapped him hard across the face.

"Go away, Mousse."

Mousse rubbed his cheek where her hand print was forming. She had hit him harder than that innumerable times before. Hit him, pounded him, caged him while he was in duck form... And he loved her in spite of it all.

He still loved her. But, for the first time in his life, he felt himself growing angry at her. At her actions, self-centered and unthinking. The blood spell, an abomination of dark magic... and now this...

"You selfish little..."

Shampoo blinked.

"You stoop to using forbidden magic, casting a _blood spell_ on Ranma, then intentionally lie about it... And you even see him suffering because of what _you've_ done to him..!" Mousse's eyes flashed behind his glasses. He could hardly believe that he was yelling at Shampoo... and defending Ranma of all people... "Even now, all you can think about is yourself! How _you_ are going to suffer because Ranma discovered your treachery and ruined your plans to trap him."

It was a hard truth. Hard for him to admit that perhaps Ranma wasn't the one chasing Shampoo. But he could not delude himself in the face of such evidence. Shampoo wanted Ranma. So badly that she was willing to sacrifice his happiness to satisfy her own. Mousse looked her in the eyes, fighting the part of him that wanted to throw himself at her feet and worship her in spite of it all. "It's time to for you to stop thinking about yourself, Shampoo," he said hoarsely, "and start thinking about how to fix the damage you've done."

Shampoo blinked again, stunned. Her hand raised again, lashed out...

Mousse caught her wrist in his hand. Then caught the other.

Shampoo looked up at him, struggling uselessly, trying to free her hands from Mousse's surprisingly strong grip, anger flashing across her face as her eyes shimmered with tears. He returned her gaze, his blue-grey eyes sad, but firm behind his thick lenses.

Shampoo tried to wrench her arms free again as she looked into his face. "Mousse, you stupid..!"

Then she let out a low sob, her anger crumbling away under a wave of grief, and she sagged into him, weeping into his chest.

Mousse froze. Then, slowly, he released Shampoo's wrists. Her hands went to the front of his robe. Not to hit or pound him, but to clutch desperately at the cloth over his chest as she shook, her tears soaking the fabric. He hesitated only a moment, then carefully put his arms around her, gently stroking her long silken hair.

He'd waited a lifetime for this moment. He let the moment stretch into minutes, allowing Shampoo to release her emotions. He only wished...

Ranma knelt next to them, groaning quietly as he battled the spell voices within.

"It's... okay, Shampoo," said Mousse. "I know you'll find a way to fix things. I know you'll find a way to break the blood spell. Even if you have to pay another blood price, I know you'll do it..."

Shampoo suddenly stiffened in his arms. He looked down at her, relaxing his hold, wondering if she was going to push him away.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and wet. "Wh-what you say, Mousse?" she asked softly.

He blinked. She wasn't clobbering him for holding her. "I... uh... said that I know you'll make things right..."

"No, stupid!" She seemed more anxious than angry. "About dragon. You say I have to go back to dragon!"

Had he? He couldn't remember. "I... er, mentioned the blood price... I think..."

"Aiya! That it, Mousse! That way to break blood spell! Ancient One more than powerful enough to remove spell cast with own blood!"

"Ancient One?" gasped Mousse. He dropped his arms to his sides in shock. "Shampoo, you got dragon blood from the _Ancient One_?"

Beside them, Ranma moaned and raised his head, slowly opening his eyes as the ringing aftereffects of the spell voices lingered in the forefront of his mind. He looked over at Shampoo and Mousse. With his hope of breaking the blood spell crushed, pushing back the spell voices had taken the last ounce of his remaining will. And they had not been confined peacefully. Ranma felt as if his mind had just been scrubbed raw with a wire bristle brush.

He winced as he pushed himself to his feet. "Do you mean it, Shampoo?" he asked. "Can this Ancient One really break the blood spell and bring Akane back?"

Shampoo looked at Ranma and paled, seeing him on his feet again, seeing the anxious, determined look on his face. "Ranma..." she said. "I... so sorry... I go back to China and get dragon to break blood spell... Ancient One, he oldest of dragons, very powerful. He can break spell."

A touch of hope flickered in Ranma's eyes, but it was still dampened by seriousness. "He can," he said. "But _will_ he?"

Shampoo looked down. "Shampoo... not know. But have to try." She looked up, and her eyes were shimmering with tears. "Can Ranma... forgive Shampoo?"

Ranma's face betrayed no emotion. "I have to know something," he said at last. "The blood spell... Who's idea was it? Yours or Cologne's?"

Shampoo paled even more. Seeing this, Ranma's expression hardened slightly.

She suddenly felt Mousse's hand on her shoulder. Her instinct told her to turn and clobber him.

But she had no right. He had shown honor in the face of her lies...

Lies. No more lies.

She looked Ranma in the eye. "Is great-grandmother's idea," she said softly. "But she not force me. She give me choice. I chose. I cast spell. I... sent Akane away, and I put spell voices in head. I... sorry." So inadequate. What apology could make up for what she'd done?

Ranma trembled, his eyes closed, his bleeding hands clenched into fists once again. His battle aura flared, a bright, greenish-blue tinged with fiery red.

Shampoo stood silently, ready to take whatever Ranma threw at her.

But then his battle aura died down. His trembling stopped, and he visibly swallowed his anger. He stood silently for a long moment, his dark bangs hanging over his eyes.

"Why?" he asked finally. His voice was barely a whisper. "Why'd you do it?"

Shampoo closed her eyes and a tear slid down her cheek. "Wo... ai ni..." she whispered. She felt Mousse's hand on her shoulder tremble and slide off.

Ranma winced. "I... don't love you, Shampoo." His voice was soft, without malice.

"I know." This, above all else, the most difficult admission of her life.

He raised his head finally. "How can I trust you? How can I know that you'll help me rather than try to trick me again?"

"Because," Shampoo swallowed and steadied herself. What else was there to say? She opened her eyes and looked at him. "You not Shampoo's husband, Ranma. Mousse..." Her voice cracked. "Mousse is Shampoo's husband."

There was a stunned silence.

"_What?!_"

Suddenly Mousse was in front of her, and Ranma was looking over his shoulder at her incredulously.

"Really, Shampoo? Do you mean it?" Mousse asked. His eyes were wide with hope and disbelief.

She looked at him. "Shampoo no love you, Mousse," she said, her voice and her eyes sad. "But you defeat Shampoo. You hold arms and keep me from striking you."

Some of the hope died in Mousse's eyes. "Shampoo..."

"Shampoo... You don't have to do this," said Ranma.

"Yes," she replied, quiet and determined. "Is punishment for pain I cause you, Ranma."

Mousse shriveled. Ranma just stared at her.

"Now I go to China to face Ancient One so that he remove blood spell."

Ranma frowned. This was what he wanted. For Shampoo to remove the blood spell. To get Akane back. But for her to suddenly decide she was married to Mousse...

She seemed to know what he was thinking. "Is more than punishment, Ranma," she said, her voice surprisingly calm. "Is Amazon law. If two men beat Amazon woman, and one man is outsider, Amazon man take precedence over outsider man, to keep strength in tribe. Mousse is Amazon man. You is not. You no need... worry... about me anymore."

"Shampoo..."

"No talking. Is done."

Mousse looked at Shampoo silently, not knowing what to say. He had hoped for so long... But for it to be like this... Somehow she seemed further away from him than ever. His heart ached.

Ranma looked back and forth between Mousse and Shampoo. "I'll... let you work this out between yourselves," he said. "But for now..." He turned to face Shampoo. "I'm coming with you to China. I wanna make sure this spell gets lifted, even if I have to face this Ancient One myself."

Shampoo nodded. "We prepare tonight and go first thing in morning." She paused, and a look of trepidation flickered across her face. "Is best to leave before great-grandmother return. She will be... angry."

Ranma snorted derisively, and the old fury flashed in his eyes. "I don't care what that old ghoul says or tries to do. If she tries anything, I'll rip her head off. But I do wanna leave for China as soon as possible." He turned to walk out the door. "I'll be back at first light," he said. "Be ready to go or I'll leave without you."

Shampoo winced at the hardness in his voice. Seeing this, Ranma's face softened slightly. He sighed. "I'm glad you want to make up for what you've done, Shampoo. And I haven't forgotten all the times you've helped me in the past. But don't expect me to just fall on the floor in gratitude, because in one week you've come close to destroying my entire life. And if you think about tricking me again, just remember. I'll find a way to break the blood spell with or without your help."

And with that, he turned and walked out the door.

Shampoo watched him leave, a great emptiness swelling inside her.

Mousse cleared his throat. "Shampoo..."

"Mousse. Go pack things, okay?"

He sighed. "Okay, Shampoo." He turned away from her. And spoke in their native Mandarin. "*But I hope that someday you will think of me as a reward for your redemption... rather than as a punishment for your sin.*"

She didn't respond. He walked quietly out of the room and went upstairs.

Shampoo looked out the store windows and into the dark night. _Oh Mousse_, she thought, her eyes shimmering. _I hope so too_.

--------------------

In the Kami Plane, deep within the Snow Woman's abode, a demon laughed.

The Shadowcat was clearly pleased. It's eyes burned like yellow lamps as it looked at the Snow Woman's mirror. Within the swirling ice magic that sped across the mirror's surface, it could see a dark-haired pig-tailed boy running along the top of a fence under a moonless night sky.

**Ah, yessss,** it purred. **I am familiar with this one. He is my strongest initiate. Very powerful, his spirit. He feeds me well, those too few times his fear activates my gift and connects his soul with mine.**

The Snow Woman smiled and ran her long white fingers through the Shadowcat's fur, feeling the gnawing tingle of the demon's black ki down to her cold bones. "Pity," she said, "that you can only be summoned briefly to the mortal realm by mortal fear. Otherwise, you could dwell there, and keep the boy in a perpetual state of terror."

The Shadowcat chuckled knowingly. **It is true, I can only be summoned. But I know of no reason I cannot be _sent_...** The demon cat's tail twitched in anticipation.

"And if I provided a way, what then? The boy has broken your trance each time."

**He cannot do it himself,** answered the demon. **Only two people have managed to break my hold over him. One is dead. The other...**

The Snow Woman's smile turned grim. "The other will return to me once his mind is purged of human thought and memory, breaking his hold over her once and for all."

The Shadowcat blinked dismissively. **It seems such a small reward, a pet human girl, in return for giving me this strong one.**

The Snow Woman's eyes flashed. "That is no concern of yours," she said.

**Of course not. But on the subject of breaking trances... There is the little matter of his Jusenkyo curse. The shock of his transformation has also shattered the connection between us on numerous occasions.**

A slow, cold smile crawled across the Snow Woman's bloodless features.

"Leave that to me."

--------------------

Doctor Tofu arrived shortly after Ukyo. Nabiki greeted him at the door, after making sure that Kasumi was irretrievably absorbed in cleaning up the kitchen after dinner. Without a life-threatening emergency forcing the doctor to have a clear head, she knew he was susceptible to his usual infatuation-induced fog. She didn't need the smitten man shredding the evidence before it was presented.

"Has Ranma come home yet?" he asked.

"Not yet," she replied soberly. "Did you bring everything?"

Tofu patted a satchel at his side. "I've got everything right here."

She nodded. "Good. Between that and the stuff I've managed to find, it ought to convince them."

They walked into the living room, where Ryoga, Ukyo, her father, and Uncle Saotome sat waiting for them.

Ukyo had her arms folded crossly. "We're wasting our time here," she said. "We should be out looking for Ranchan." She glared at Ryoga. "I can't believe you just let him run off like that."

"Hey! He told me he was going to Doctor Tofu's! Besides, I didn't even know you were looking for him!"

"Quiet, everyone." Nabiki motioned for silence. Everybody looked at her. She looked at Doctor Tofu.

He sighed. "Apparently, some of you are having a hard time believing Nabiki when she says that Ranma's blood spell girl, Akane, is real. I must admit, when she called me looking for Ranma, and then told me of her suspicions, I was skeptical. But then I did a little research on my own and found out some very disturbing things."

He reached into his satchel, pulled out an ancient leather book and opened it to a marked page. "Ranma keeps claiming that Akane is trapped in the Kami Plane. Well, I did some reading, and found this." He put the book down on the table. Everyone craned their necks to look at it, then frowned when they saw it was written in Chinese.

Tofu cleared his throat. "This is a very ancient book, written centuries ago by a very wise priest. He was an expert in creatures unnatural, and the worlds from which they come. Here," and he pointed to the page, "he speaks of the Kami Plane, where Ranma claims Akane is trapped. He says that mortals unfortunate enough to travel to the Kami Plane gradually forget the mortal world, and are forgotten as well by those they leave behind."

He looked piercingly at those surrounding the table. "This fits perfectly with what Ranma has been telling us all along."

"So... it's _not_ the blood spell? It's the Kami Plane?" asked Ryoga.

Ukyo was noticeably silent, but her expression was one of dismay.

"Impossible," muttered Soun. "Magic or not, I would never forget my own daughter."

"And I thought I would never forget my own sister, daddy," said Nabiki. "But guess what? I did. You did. We all have forgotten her. Ranma may have the spell voices in his head, but they were right all along. _He_ was right all along. Akane is real. And she needs our help."

"Yes, I'm afraid she's right," said Tofu. "After reading this, I checked my own files and found this." He pulled out a thick folder filled with loose papers. "These are medical records, kept in my own handwriting, detailing a medical history of one Akane Tendo for the past 17 years." A small smile pierced the disturbed look in his eyes. "It appears, Tendo-san, that Akane was extremely active in martial arts. She came to see me each time she was injured. I find it amazing that, with such evidence before me, I cannot remember her at all."

Soun took the medical file and looked at it with wide eyes. "Can it be..?"

"There's more," said Nabiki. "While I was waiting for Doctor Tofu to show up, I checked out that room upstairs. I found a lot of interesting stuff, including these." She pulled out some photos, and began laying them down one by one on the table. Soun and Genma picked them up to examine them.

They were pictures of the family, before mother died. In the first one, Soun stood behind his wife, his hand lovingly on her shoulder. A young Nabiki and Kasumi stood on either side of her. And on her lap, she held a little black-haired toddler with expressive brown eyes and a cute smile.

Soun stared at the pictures in shock. Ryoga and Ukyo glanced at each other with growing uneasiness. Nabiki noted their reactions -- especially Ukyo's -- and debated whether or not to put down the final picture.

She sighed. Ukyo had to find out and accept it sooner or later... "Here," she said. "This one's especially... entertaining. I didn't think anyone had ever taken a picture of Ranma when he was under the influence of the Nekoken, but look at this." She slapped the picture down.

Ukyo's eyes went wide. "That's... Akane?"

Ryoga's eyes were wide as well. "Th-that's Ranma? Wh-what's he doing?"

Nabiki smirked. "It's called 'kissing,' Ryoga. You should try it some time." She chuckled as Ryoga flushed seven different shades of red.

Soun and Genma snatched the picture off the table and peered at it.

"That's my boy!" said Genma. "Showing a little initiative!"

Soun started up with the water works. "My daughter! I have a daughter I can't remember!"

Nabiki smiled grimly. "I think you'll all agree that the evidence is indisputable. Akane is real. Our next priority is to find Ranma, and let him know he's not going crazy."

"Thanks, Nabiki, but I already figured that out."

Everybody turned, stunned, to see Ranma standing in the hallway.

He smiled a little, still looking at Nabiki. "But I guess I have you to thank for that anyway."

Nabiki blinked, trying to get her brain back into gear. "What?" He walked up to her and put a cassette tape in her hands.

"So, thanks," he said, enjoying the horrified look that rippled across her face as she looked down at the object in her hands. "I feel much better." He looked at the others, who were staring at him, jaws agape. "And it's nice to know you all believe me now."

Nabiki blinked. Her distributors had given him the tape. Not a bad thing, since she was planning on playing it for him herself. But that meant he knew about Shampoo. And that meant...

"So _that's_ where you were..." she said, looking up at him. He appeared to be in good shape... She raised an eyebrow, refusing to be ruffled further. "Tell me, do we need to make funeral arrangements, or is there anything left of Shampoo to bother with?"

There was a gasp around the table.

Genma was the first to recover. "What's this?" he asked. "What's going on?"

Ranma turned to the others. "Shampoo cast the blood spell," he said quietly. "Nabiki got her and the old ghoul's confession on tape. I just went to see her, and she told me herself. And no, I didn't kill her or fight her or nothin'," he said, in response to the stares he was receiving. "But we're leaving for China tomorrow morning. She's going to find the dragon she got the blood from. She seems to think he's powerful enough that he could remove the spell she cast with his blood. And I'm going to make sure it gets done right."

There was a stunned silence as everyone digested what Ranma said.

"I'm coming with you, Ranma," said Ryoga.

"Me too," said Ukyo. She was in shock over all the revelations of the evening. She felt numb and heartsick over the possibility that Ranma might be in love with someone else. After all, wasn't _she_ his fiancée? Sure, he'd never treated her as more than just his childhood buddy, but she'd been so sure that when he decided to make a decision, she'd win over Shampoo. She never thought she'd have to worry about either of the Tendo sisters, since neither of them expressed any romantic interest in Ranma.

Except Nabiki. Just that very afternoon. And, apparently, the third Tendo daughter that no one except Ranma remembered.

She looked over at Nabiki to find that the girl was watching her. Her expression was easily read. It said "Get used to it. I have." Ukyo was amazed that the normally stone-faced girl could be so expressive without words.

She needed some time to think. Her mind was whirling, and her heart felt like it was in a vise. But, in the meantime, she wasn't going to let Ranma out of her sight. "I'm coming with you too, Ranchan."

"And I'm coming as well," said Nabiki.

Ranma looked at her in surprise.

She gave him a half-lidded glare. "Honestly, Ranma, how exactly do you plan on getting to China? Were you planning on swimming again? I hate to say this, but you need my finances to rescue my... sister."

Ranma was struck speechless. Nabiki was going to pay for the trip? "Uh, thanks, Nabiki." He smiled. "I owe you."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't I know it," she muttered quietly.

"Well then," said Ranma, not hearing her and turning to the others, "those of you coming with me had better pack because we're leaving first thing in the morning."

--------------------

Ranma knelt next to his dresser, stuffing clothes and supplies into his backpack with swift precision.

Finally. After a week of waiting, he was going to _do_ something. He didn't feel so powerless now, knowing that a solution was in sight. And he would do whatever it took to make that solution come about.

Even face a dragon...

His heart thumped in his chest in anticipation, and his blue eyes were wide and anxious. _Hold on, Akane. I'm coming..._

...something prickled...

Ranma tensed and looked up.

_What the..._

He looked around his empty room.

Something... was trying to sneak up on him..?

"Pop?" His eyes narrowed, and he crouched as he felt... _something_ intrude on his senses again. "If that's you, it ain't funny. I got no time to be playing around now."

But no. It didn't feel like Genma.

Ranma frowned.

It felt evil.

Happosai, maybe? Had he returned?

_Oh man, I hope not. I don't wanna deal with him right now,_ thought Ranma, peering through his dark bangs as he extended his senses, trying to feel _what_...

The spell voices whispered in the back of his mind, scratching away at his mental barriers, disrupting his concentration. He growled in annoyance. _Oh, be quiet_, he thought. _I'm gonna be rid of you soon enough, anyway..._

**How true that is.**

Ranma froze, his eyes wide.

Silence.

Then the color drained from his face as the strange, yet terrifyingly familiar voice came into his mind again -- a voice he recognized from his childhood nightmares.

**Although you won't be rid of them the way you want...**

Ranma found himself pressing his back against the corner between the wall and his dresser, trying to shrink inside himself as his deepest instincts shivered in primal terror.

"Take it slow," said a woman's voice, soft and sultry. "We don't want to put him out of his misery too soon. You can have him after I'm through with him."

A soft, purring chuckle.

The single naked bulb hanging from the ceiling shattered with a sudden popping noise, plunging the room into darkness.

_No! I can't let this happen! I have to find Akane!_ Ranma forced himself to stand on trembling legs, his eyes staring wildly in the dark, waiting for his worst fear to appear before him.

Instead, another image from his nightmares appeared.

A shimmering portal appeared in the darkness before him, and through it, like liquid, came the Snow Woman, her long white hair flowing around her ice blue robes. A cruel smile was on her cold white lips.

"Well, Ranma," she said, as the shimmering disappeared behind her. "We meet again."

Ranma's eyes narrowed as he realized there was nothing in the least bit feline about the apparition before him. "You!" he said, recognition flaring in his eyes. He crouched in a battle stance. "You have Akane!"

"My dear boy," she said lightly. "You are jumping to all the wrong conclusions. Akane is not my prisoner. She has stayed with me of her own free will. Not only that, but she desires to stay with me always. You see, as you probably already know, she has forgotten all about you."

Ranma clenched his jaw. "You're lying," he said. His battle aura flared, and he began to build up his ki. He was going to blast this demon back to where she came from.

"But I'm not. Just as the Kami Plane made everyone here forget her, so has she forgotten all of you."

"Wrong!" said Ranma. "_I_ didn't forget her. And I know she hasn't forgotten me."

The Snow Woman smirked. "How typically egotistical of you. Of course _you_ haven't forgotten her. You have those spell voices in your mind telling you that she's alive. Otherwise, you would have forgotten her, like all the rest."

Ranma's eyes widened, and his battle aura flickered with uncertainty. "No," he said through clenched teeth. "That's not true. I remember her because I... love her."

"Her father loved her," the Snow Woman said softly, her eyes narrowed. "Her sisters loved her. Your friend, Ryoga, loved her..."

Ranma blinked, stunned as he realized... He felt tears build behind his eyes, and his chest felt tight. He clenched his fists. "No..."

"It hurts, doesn't it? Yes, I'm afraid it's true. Your... love... is not the binding link you thought it was. But I'm not here to torture you, Ranma," she said with a half smile. "I'm actually here on a mission of mercy." She glided towards him, her ice blue eyes sparkling, her white arms outstretched. "I've come to silence those voices in your head. I've come to put you out of your misery. I've come to help you forget her..." \

Ranma stared at the Snow Woman, horrified. She was lying. She had to be. Akane hadn't forgotten him...

"Akane has no desire to return to you. In fact, she's happier now than she ever was with you. She's stronger, more confident..." She tossed her shimmering hair. "You needn't worry about her. She is quite content. After all, you only made her miserable."

"No..." Ranma glared at her, trembling, fighting back tears as she drew closer. But deep in the part of his soul where his darkest fears lay, he felt she was right...

"Yes. Can you honestly think of a time when you've made Akane truly happy? Without shattering her pleasure with some unthinking remark?" The Snow Woman smiled at the look on Ranma's face. "You are nothing to her, Ranma," she said. "She does not love you."

Ranma's ki burned the blue-green of despair. "D-damn you."

The Snow Woman stretched out her arms, her long white fingers mere inches from his face. "Ah, such pain," she said softly, her breath an icy whisper. "Come to me. I can help make it all go away." And she went to touch him.

Ranma blinked. Then he moved so swiftly, he was a blur, leaping and flipping over the pale apparition to land behind her. "No way!" he shouted. She gasped and turned, her eyes blazing with fury, to see the blur of his fist moving towards her face...

Ranma intended to use his ki-fueled punch to send the white demon back to the Kami Plane...

But she wasn't there. Or rather, his fist moved through her, as if it were passing through a cold mist. He blinked, and she smiled at him as he pulled his arm from her ethereal form. And then, a stunned moment later, he felt her very solid, icy fingers on his throat...

"Foolish boy," she said, amused. "You think I wouldn't prepare for your mortal tricks? I became intimately acquainted with your ki on my last visit. You can do nothing to me that I cannot avoid. In fact, you've made it so much easier..."

Ranma felt a flash of bitter cold emanate from the Snow Woman's hand and spread over his entire body the instant before he pried her fingers from his throat. He cried out, then slumped to the floor, shivering. He was surprised when, after a moment, the cold feeling passed.

"Wh-what did you do?" he asked, glaring fiercely at her as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Nothing much. I just added a little something to your ki. Something that will make whatever liquid that touches you, no matter how hot, turn cold before it touches your skin."

The Snow Woman smirked at the horrified, angry expression spreading across Ranma's face. Yes, he understood what she had done. That was just how he looked after he discovered the power of the Chiisuiton...

And, my, he certainly could throw off a bright battle aura. The blue-greens that swirled in the glowing ball of energy he was forming in his hands were blinding...

"_Shishi Houkodan!_" The cry tore itself from Ranma's throat, and the blast hit the Snow Woman dead on.

The sheer strength and fury of it caught her by surprise. She was burning. Ranma's ki blast tore at her being. She could feel herself breaking apart, and barely had time to reinforce the protective barriers around her before she lost herself...

Ranma sank to his knees, shaking, and looked out the smoldering hole he had created in the side of the house. The Snow Woman lay, somewhat blackened, on the grass against the wall of the yard. She wasn't moving, and he wondered if he'd killed her...

But no, she was moving. He could see waves of energy flowing into her from the ground and the air, as if she was pulling the cold of the chilly spring night into her body. Sitting up, she tilted at odd angles, like a broken doll. Then slowly, as the energy flowed to her, she began straightening...

He could hear the shouts of alarm from the Tendos as they raced up the stairs to see what was going on.

Nabiki tried to open his door, but it wouldn't budge. She pounded. "Ranma! Are you okay? What's going on in there?!"

Ranma wearily turned to answer..

_splash_

... and found himself female, and spluttering from the cold water that just drenched him.

**Well, what do you know. She did it. That water was hot enough for tea.**

More pounding. "Ranma, answer me!"

But he couldn't. Because his mouth was dry, his limbs were frozen, and his mind was shrieking with terror as the Shadowcat, who had just appeared in the room, padded up to him, its yellow eyes narrowed to glowing slits, its dark ki flickering about its form like black flames.

**Ah, you remember me. I'm flattered.** It extended its claws and reached out towards Ranma's pale, trembling form. **You're my favorite, you know. I've never had one as strong as you. And now, thanks to the lovely Yuki-onna sending me here through her magic mirror, I can be with you always.** The demon bared its needle-sharp teeth in a parody of a smile.

In the past five minutes, Ranma had experienced the full spectrum of fear. On one end of the spectrum, the esoteric, yet very real fears of losing Akane, of losing his manhood. Of losing his reasons for existing. Now, on the other side of the spectrum, he felt the deep primal terror that had plagued man from the beginning of time. Terror of things that dwelled in the dark; of pain, sharp and sweet.

Terror of losing himself to the darkness.

He felt the now-familiar feeling of his mind fleeing unwillingly before his fear, leaving behind something... less. Different. Him, but not.

A small, strangled cry was the only noise he made as the Shadowcat came up to his twitching form, and pressed its forehead against his.

Ryoga shattered the door down with a smashing, splintering of wood. He burst into Ranma's room, calling his name, followed closely by Nabiki, Ukyo, Soun and Genma. They gaped at the sight of the huge demon cat pressing its forehead against onna-Ranma's as she knelt, frozen, her eyes wide, her pupils and irises seeming to shrink in the wild whiteness that filled them, her hands curling into paws.

_The Shadowcat was right_, thought Ranma as he felt words leaving him. Language was slipping away... _I can't hear the spell voices anymore..._

_...Akane..._

And Ranma yowled.

"Get away from him!" Ryoga formed a ball of ki energy in his hands and blasted it at the Shadowcat.

The Shadowcat simply faded away before the blast could reach it. The blast passed in front of Ranma, and she turned, arching her back and hissing at the astonished group, her eyes wild and empty. Then she turned and fled with inhuman speed on all fours out the hole in the wall just enlarged by Ryoga's blast.

"Ranma! Come back!"

But she was gone. Over the wall and into the night in a few graceful leaps.

Ranma's friends stared after him in dismay. None of them noticed the woman, the color of bleached bone, who faded away in the yard below, her cold laughter echoing through the wind.

--------------------

The mists parted reluctantly, but, as Akane emerged from the clinging wisps, she was grateful to see that the realm she was entering wasn't as... dark... as the last few she'd visited. Chances were, that meant this wasn't a demon's abode.

She turned to Masakazu. "Well? Do you recognize this place? Do you think whoever lives here will help me?"

The tengu shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't know this place. But it feels like the dwelling of an upper-level spirit, who might have power enough to break the blood spell. We can try."

Akane sighed and brushed her dark bangs from her eyes wearily. "We've been trying for over two weeks now," she said irritably. "So far, all we've encountered are beings who either want to kill me, marry me, or are just too snobbish to bother with a 'mere mortal' like me." She grimaced. "This is gonna take forever."

Masakazu chuckled. "Don't worry, Akane-chan. The Kami Plane is a vast realm, much larger than the mortal world. I'm sure we'll find someone who will help--"

Akane gasped suddenly, and pressed her hand to her heart, her eyes wide.

"What's wrong?" the tengu asked, concerned.

Akane's brown eyes were tearing. She looked at her sensei, her face pale. "I... I don't know. I felt something just now... Like... like I lost something." She swallowed. "I feel... hollow..."

A small, scared feeling was building in her stomach as she slowly recognized the hollow feeling. It was the same feeling she'd felt when she first became trapped in the Kami Plane. It was the same feeling she felt as she watched Ranma fade away from her sight as the blood spell separated them not once, but twice...

Her eyes filled with terror. "Sensei! Something's happened to Ranma!"

But the tengu wasn't listening. His black eyes were narrowed as he peered at her ki. The blood spell seemed normal, except...

...except the tiny wisp of dragon blood that served as the transdimensional connection between Ranma and Akane was dissolving...

_Yuki-onna..._ he thought sadly. _What have you done?_

"We have to help him, sensei!" Akane was frantic.

The tengu closed his eyes. Akane's time in the Kami Realm had made her perceptive. But then, maybe her instinctive knowledge of what happened to Ranma had nothing to do with the powers of the Kami realm...

Akane took him by the shoulders, taking his silence for reluctance. "Please," she begged, tears streaming down her face. "I can't go to him! But you can, I know it! You can go to the mortal plane and help Ranma!"

"Akane." He sighed. "I am forbidden..."

"I don't care! You have to!" She began to break down into sobs. "P-please... If you don't... I'll lose him. I can feel it."

The tengu turned away from her. He hated to see her cry. But for him to go against the significant powers that were against him... To venture back into the mortal realm...

_Damn_.

"All right, Akane-chan. I'll try." He turned to see the hopeful smile break through Akane's tears.

_And may Kami-sama have mercy on us both_.

--------------------

End of Part Twelve


	14. Souls in the Balance, Part 1

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

---------------------------------------------

Hearts of Ice

Part 13: Souls in the Balance, Part One

by Krista Perry

---------------------------------------------

"Akane." Masakazu reached out a soft, feathered hand and placed it on the girl's shoulder as she knelt, her sobs gradually subsiding as she smiled at him.

Akane stood and wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her fingers, facing the tengu, relief and hope flickering in her brown eyes. "Thank you, sensei," she said, her voice tremulous and full of gratitude. "You don't know how much this means to me. I know you can help Ranma, whatever's happened to him..."

Masakazu gazed at her, his inhuman black eyes unblinking. "I appreciate your confidence in me, child," he said, his voice quiet and serious. "But..."

Akane frowned as the tengu trailed off uncertainly. "What is it?" she asked, the knot of dread in her stomach tightening. "You _can_ help Ranma, can't you?"

The tengu closed his eyes. "That's not it, Akane. I will do what I can to find out what has happened to him, and fix it if possible. It's just that..." He raised his head and looked at her. "You must know that if I leave you now... If I go to the mortal plane to help your fiance, it may be... some time... before I will be able to return."

Akane paled. "Wh-what?" Masakazu, her sole friend in a hostile realm, unable to return to her? "But... why?"

The tengu closed his eyes. "Do you remember, a week or so ago, when I explained about the time dilation between the planes?"

Akane's eyes widened with understanding... and horror.

The revelation that she had been trapped in the Kami Plane for over two years while only a _single week_ had passed in the mortal realm had left her reeling. Her first thought, as she recovered from the shock, was for Ranma.

_And all this time I thought that, when he used that strange spell to try and come for me, he'd been searching for me for two whole years. But really, for him at least, I've only been missing a few days. That idiot._

It had bothered her a great deal to think that Ranma's... feelings for her... weren't as tested by time as hers were for him. He was just acting on the fiery impulse of the moment, as usual -- a fiery impulse that could fade and die out as time eventually passed for him as it had passed for her. Once again, visions of him marrying Ukyo or Shampoo filled her head... and filled her soul with an almost unbearable grief and anger at the imagined betrayal...

Until Masakazu pointed out that, while everyone else, including her family, had succumbed to the spell of forgetfulness cast by the Kami Plane, Ranma had not. He remembered her when no ne else, not even her own father, could even recall her name.

"Do not assume," the tengu had said, "that just because he does not have the burden of two years separation weighing on his soul as you have, his love is less than yours. You witnessed a mere glimpse of the intensity of his suffering when you caught Yuki-onna spying on him through her mirror. Believe me, though but a week has passed in the mortal realm since you left, it seems like an eternity for him."

His words had eased her fears at the time, and left her aching with sympathy for Ranma's pain, as well as aching for his company... once again...

Now the knowledge of the time dilation sent a whole new surge of fears to the surface of her thoughts. If Masakazu left her, and spent even a single day in the mortal realm trying to save Ranma from whatever it was that sent instinctive terror spiking through her soul on his behalf...

Weeks... even months might pass in the Kami realm before he returned. Months that she would have to spend alone; a sole human in a realm of spirits, gods and demons, the majority of whom were indifferent to her. Worse, some were openly hostile...

Akane looked behind her at the swirling blanket of dark mist she had just emerged from, her hand nervously reaching up to play with a lock of her dark hair that now fell well past her shoulders. She could probably manage on her own. Heck, she'd been winning battles against demons for over two years now, thanks to the tengu's training. Still, it was a lot different, fighting demons in the relative safety of the Snow Woman's domain, and fighting demons on their own turf as she continued her search to find someone who might have power enough -- and compassion enough -- to lift the blood spell from her. There had been some awfully close calls with demons the past few weeks since she and Masakazu-sensei had ventured out on their own, and she had been grateful that the tengu warrior had been fighting by her side...

Akane shuddered. She didn't want to be alone in this strange, frightening place. Yet she couldn't shake the terrified feeling that if Masakazu didn't go to the mortal realm to find out what was wrong, Ranma would be lost to her forever. Something terrible had happened to him, she could _feel_ it...

Tears welled in her eyes and slid silently down her cheeks as she looked at the mist-covered ground. _That idiot... It figures he'd somehow manage to get himself in trouble instead of finding a way to rescue me_, she thought. Her blue-black hair fell in soft wisps around her face and she brushed them back with one slender but strong hand. Swallowing, she looked up into the bird face of the tengu. "I... I'll be fine on my own, sensei. Please... go to him. I don't think I could bear it if..." Her throat closed off, and she couldn't finish the thought.

"Akane-chan..."

Masakazu's black eyes gazed at her sadly over his expressionless beak. She forced a small, scared smile. "It's okay. Really. I'll keep looking for a way to break the blood spell by myself. Just... hurry back when you can, okay?"

The tengu closed his eyes and bowed. "I will."

And with that, he disappeared.

Akane wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered. She looked around at the bleak, grey stretch of landscape in front of her, the trailing wisps of the Mists of Kami curling about her ankles behind her.

She was alone. Alone, and more frightened than she had ever been in her life.

For herself, and her uncertain future...

But mostly, as the strange hollowness grew within her... for Ranma...

--------------------

The Snow Woman crumpled to the floor with a gasp of pain as the last of her mirror portal spell faded behind her.

In spite of the pain, a faint smile touched her lips.

_Success._

But no time to celebrate. As her body gradually solidified into material existence, the searing agony of the blackened, blistering ki burns on her face, chest and arms flared mercilessly. She cried out, and icy tears of pain fell from her closed eyes to shatter on the hard floor of her quarters. She knelt, her slim body trembling, her shimmering white mane of hair, scorched in places, spilling on the floor around her.

Carefully, she lifted her head and began to soak up the healing cold of her realm, soothing the pain of the blackened ki burns that marred the smooth white surface of her skin.

She had underestimated the boy. Even after all her careful preparation, after all the precautions she had taken, she had not been prepared for the strength of Ranma's ki attack. Using her precious magic to transport herself and the Shadowcat demon to the mortal realm, and then casting the cold spell on Ranma, had drained her. She nearly lacked the power to save herself from the boy's unexpectedly vicious retaliation. After such a close call, it took all her remaining strength to draw the cold out of the chill spring night just so that she could return home...

Now, though, back in the center of her domain, she was in her element. With a bright blue flash, her icy power flared, engulfing her in a cold aura, soothing the pain of the ki burns. She sagged in relief, her fingers splaying out against the cold marble floor. Moments later, a thin sheen of shining ice formed over the skin of her fingers. The ice slowly began to spread up her arms and over her chest and face, then down her back and legs until the Snow Woman had completely encased herself in a bright cocoon of ice.

The ice pulsed with power, and the ugly wounds beneath began to heal.

After a moment, the glow faded. The ice cracked and fell from the Snow Woman's skin in gleaming shards. Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet and tossed her hair, shaking out the remaining ice crystals. She stood before her mirror to examine her reflection.

The worst of the damage was gone. Still, she could see tiny blackened burn fissures scattered across the white surface of her skin like cracks in a baked desert floor. She frowned slightly, her frost-blue eyes narrowing. They would heal with time. Until then...

She stepped towards the mirror.

She'd only caught the briefest, tantalizing glimpse of the fruits of her labor before she was forced of necessity to return. Now she had to make sure...

Leaning towards her reflection, she breathed. The frost magic swirled on the reflective surface, then cleared to show...

...a flash of red, pigtailed hair, and the slim silhouette of a distinctly female form moving with impossible speed on all fours through dark suburban streets, past houses, over walls, towards trees and mountains...

Ranma was still running. The Snow Woman looked through her mirror at the boy, trapped in woman guise thanks to her ice magic. As the mirror focused on his face, she could see, even in the darkness, that the blue of his eyes was lost in the wild whiteness of the Nekoken that had overcome him. Human in body, but in mind no longer, he ran with swift feline ease through the moonless night, his wide eyes sparking with a primal fear as the unseen presence of the Shadowcat demon drove him further and further away from his home and friends...

But, though it was extremely satisfying to see the boy reduced to such a state, it wasn't what she was looking for.

She concentrated on his ki...

The blood spell. There, woven deep within the dragon blood that permeated his ki, was that stubborn wisp of dragon blood -- the other end of the same strand she'd spent so long trying to reach and destroy in Akane's ki so that she would forget...

It was fading.

The Snow Woman clasped her thin white fingers underneath her chin and smiled slowly.

The tiny wisp of dragon blood that linked Ranma and Akane, though they were separated by dimensions, was fading.

Yet... it was fighting to exist, though it was never meant to be. It was a mere fluke of the blood spell; an unnatural side effect never intended by the caster. The result of Ranma's tremendous ki blast that shattered the threatening spell into pieces, only for it to re-form moments later -- smaller, weaker, altered...

Still, the blood spell managed to accomplish its purpose. Akane was spirited away to the Kami Plane. And Ranma was left alone with the spell-voices in his head, promising him that he would never find her...

Though, in his current state, Ranma could no longer hear those spell voices. Or if he did, the words no longer had meaning for him...

The Snow Woman's eyes narrowed as she watched the fading wisp of dragon blood. "Disappear," she whispered, as if by doing so, her will would help destroy it.

But it did not need her help. The demon Shadowcat's disruption, as it fed delicately and continuously on Ranma's powerful ki, had shattered the tenuous link that kept Ranma and Akane in constant, though unconscious contact in spite of the dimensions and the time dilations that separated them.

The tiny wisp of dragon blood flickered weakly.

Then, without preamble or fanfare, it dissolved.

Disappeared. Snuffed out like a tiny candle flame in a fierce, cold wind.

Ranma continued to run, driven by blind animal instinct, into the dark night.

The Snow Woman closed her eyes in satisfaction.

Complete success.

The mirror darkened. She did not want to look at the boy any longer. Her revenge against him was complete. Not only that, but now that the boy's mind was gone, and the connection between him and Akane dissolved, there was nothing to prevent the Kami Plane from extending its subtle magic to make Akane forget him. Forget home. She would, at last, become a true denizen of the Kami Plane.

Most importantly, with her ties to both her home and her worthless fiance erased from her mind, the misunderstanding between them would soften. And she would come back...

Yuki-onna opened her eyes and smiled. The first genuine smile to light her face in the weeks since Akane left.

Akane would come back.

All she had to do now was wait.

--------------------

A moment of nothingness. The bodiless, black void between the planes.

Masakazu waited patiently for the void to disappear, to form itself into the mortal realm as his transportation spell completed its cycle.

The moment of nothingness stretched into a longer moment. Then, even longer.

The bodiless intelligence that formed the tengu's identity in the non-existence between planes began to get worried. What was taking so long? It never took this long to travel...

**Masakazu.**

A voice, that sounded like an infinitely vast multitude speaking in unison, pierced his mind.

_Oh no..._

In the void, the tengu had no physical presence, no solid body to react to the voice that penetrated his mind, yet he found himself trembling just the same.

_I was afraid of this..._

**Were you, now?** The voice was mild, yet cold. **And yet you attempt to interfere with the mortal plane even so.**

**It's not what you think--**

**Oh?** A touch of wry amusement. **We think it is. You tengu have a reputation for meddling in mortal affairs. We have seen you with the girl. You have bent the rules too often. You should not interfere. She is ours by right. As punishment for your meddling, we shall leave you here, in the void between the planes.**

**I _haven't_ interfered!** Masakazu forced himself to be calm, in spite of the terrifying nothingness of the void. **I have gone to the mortal plane merely to undo the damage caused by others who travel between the planes to cause mischief. And as for the girl--**

**You are not one to speak of mischief, tengu. Your kind has a long record of creating trouble on all sides of the dimensional barriers. You, personally, Masakazu, have been warned time and again against interfering. And now you would prevent the natural order of things from working on this mortal girl in the Kami Plane.**

Masakazu heaved a mental sigh, disguising his fear. Eternity was a long time to be trapped in nothingness, and he was old enough that he knew a little of eternity... **I have not done anything, one way or the other, to help Akane find her way back home. I am not responsible for the blood spell strand that keeps her memory of the mortal plane intact. I have not encouraged her to find a way home. She initiated her search for a cure through her own power and determination. If I have done anything, I have merely taught her the skills she needs to survive among those who would use her or harm her, so that the Kami Plane might enjoy the feel of her human presence within its boundaries a little longer.**

**You interfered and saved the mortal boy from the Snow Woman, she who has the right to transcend the barriers...**

**She may be have the right and the ability to transcend the barriers at will, having domain in both the Kami and mortal realms,** Masakazu responded fiercely, **but she had no right to harm that boy. It was spring, with summer on the way. Not even a frost on the ground. He was in no danger of freezing to death, and she had no right to take his life. It was an act of pure vengeance on her part, having nothing to do with her normal realm of jurisdiction.**

The voice was silent a moment. Masakazu felt the hollow, gnawing nothingness of the void pressing against his mind as he awaited a response.

**You summoned the mortal boy to you as a dream presence, and warned him of the Kami Plane's spell of Forgetfulness...**

Masakazu groaned silently in frustration. **That was completely incidental. The boy is inflicted with the same blood spell that prevents Akane from forgetting the mortal world. As I said, I had nothing to do with that, or the result that both of them seem to be immune to the spell of Forgetfulness. I merely felt sorry for him, and locked the blood spell voices away from his mind, which in no way interfered with anything related to the Kami realm.**

Silence again.

Were they... actually listening? Or were they simply toying with him?

**Please,** Masakazu said, hoping that their silence was a good sign. **I'm not going to the mortal realm to interfere with anything in relation to the workings of the Kami Plane. I am not giving Akane undue aid in her quest to escape the Kami Plane. I am merely going to check on her fiance, perhaps to fix an injustice inflicted upon him by one of our own, as before. Surely you can allow me that.**

The voice was silent. Then, **You seem to have a great deal of interest in this mortal pair.**

Masakazu paused. **Yes,** he admitted hesitantly. **Well... I suppose I'm just a hopeless romantic.**

**Typical of your race.** The voice was slightly derisive, yet held a touch of amusement.

The tengu was silent. There was nothing more to say. Perhaps he had said too much.

The hollow ache of being in the void too long was starting to wear against his mind. An eternity of this..?

**You may go,** the voice said at last. **But be warned, tengu. Do not overstep your boundaries. We know how you delight in twisting and bending the laws to suit yourself. We will not be so lenient next time.**

The relief that flooded Masakazu's mind was almost embarrassing in its intensity. Focusing, he found a semblance of his ancient dignity again. **Thank you,** he replied soberly.

And then he felt his body solidifying as the mortal plane flared into existence around him, filling the void.

--------------------

Shampoo stood, looking out the windows of the Nekohanten, squinting against the brightness of the early morning sun as it rose higher into the sky. Mousse stood behind her silently, next to their travel packs.

Finally he spoke. "I don't think he's coming, Shampoo," he said softly.

She stiffened, but her eyes didn't leave the street. "Stupid Mousse," she said, but her voice was low, and there was no force behind the words. "Ranma no can find Ancient One by himself. He need Shampoo to lead him to dragon."

Mousse shook his head, even though Shampoo couldn't see him. "If Ranma decided to find the dragon without us, he would do it," he replied. "He said he would be here at first light. That was over an hour ago." Mousse sighed as he saw her tremble a little. "Face it, Shampoo. He's gone without us."

Shampoo didn't respond. She stood silently, gazing out the window. Then her shoulders shook with a low sob, and her head bowed as she fought back the wetness in her eyes.

"Is no fair," she whispered after a moment. "Ranma no even give Shampoo chance to fix... He no let me prove I... sorry..."

Mousse closed his eyes briefly behind his glasses. _He gave you every chance to prove you were sorry,_ he thought, remembering the trust Ranma had placed in Shampoo when she first returned from China. _You just never took the opportunity to act until after you were caught red-handed._

Shampoo turned away from the window suddenly, her gaze lowered, her face set and determined though her eyes were still wet, and walked over to grab her huge pack off the floor. She shouldered it easily.

"Shampoo... What are you doing?" asked Mousse, though he already knew.

She didn't look at him. "I go to find Ranma," she said. "He no find Ancient One without Amazon guide. No Amazon in China help him, except Shampoo."

Mousse reached down with a resigned sigh and shouldered his own pack. "Then I'm coming with you, Shampoo." He knew that, as usual, wherever she went, he would follow. The fact that Cologne was expected to return home later that day also helped motivate him. He had no desire to face the old ghoul alone when she discovered that all her plans had gone awry...

He suppressed a shudder and looked down at Shampoo. "But if you're going to run off looking for Ranma, I suggest you start at the Tendo Dojo. Then you might be able to find out which way he's going, and who he's traveling with. It will make him easier to track down."

Shampoo tensed with anger in that way Mousse was so familiar with. He half-expected her to turn and kick him across the room, or throw a glass of water in his face to turn him into a duck again. But instead, slowly, she relaxed, raised her head, and looked at him for the first time that morning.

Mousse blinked. In her eyes was something akin to fear.

"Tendos," she said softly. "Ranma maybe tell them what I do to Akane..."

Mousse let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Probably," he said.

Shampoo's countenance darkened with shame, and she looked at the floor.

Mousse swallowed. He wanted to put his arms around her, but held himself back. "But... if you really want to make up for... for what you've done," he said, "you need to find Ranma fast. And that's the best way I can think of; to ask the Tendos. At least it's better than blindly charging off to China and hoping to run into him along the way..."

Shampoo nodded silently and turned towards the door. "I..." She paused, as if considering. "We... go ask Tendos..." It was almost a question.

A small, almost-hopeful smile touched Mousse's lips as he understood. "Yes," he said. "We'll go ask them together."

A ghost of a smile flickered across Shampoo's face, and she straightened. As she did, Mousse thought he saw a small spark of her old, pure Amazon honor and fighting spirit, untainted by twisted desires, flicker deep within her, seeming to pierce a tiny hole in the gloom and darkness that had settled on her...

And the spark of hope within his own heart flared brighter...

--------------------

Kasumi answered the door. "Oh my," she said, as she saw the lavender-haired Amazon and her tall bespectacled companion standing on her doorstep. "Shampoo, Mousse, what a pleasant surprise. Please come in. Would you like some breakfast?"

The two Chinese teenagers, expecting a much more hostile reception, were struck speechless by the welcome, and they cast befuddled glances at each other as the eldest Tendo girl led them into the dining area.

"I made breakfast a little while ago," said Kasumi, gesturing to the table, "but no one has come back yet. It may be a little cold, but I can heat it up in the microwave if you like."

Shampoo looked around nervously. No one else seemed to be around, much to her relief. She especially didn't want to run into Nabiki, although she had steeled herself to face the entire family if necessary... "A...Arigato," she said hesitantly, "but... no can stay."

Kasumi looked at her inquisitively. As she did, Shampoo noticed that the older girl's expression, though pleasant as usual, was lined with worry. Dark circles stood out against pale skin under her eyes, and her eyes were red from lack of sleep. Still, Kasumi smiled. "Ah, I understand," she said. "You've come to look for Ranma too. That's so kind of you."

Shampoo and Mousse blinked. "'Look for Ranma too?'" asked Mousse. "You... you mean, he left alone, without telling anyone?"

Kasumi tilted her head and gave him a puzzled look. "Well," she said hesitantly, "he wasn't exactly in any condition to... talk... when he ran off last night."

Shampoo and Mousse blinked again.

"Huh?" said Mousse brightly.

At that moment, the sound of someone coming through the front door reached their ears. "Kasumi." Nabiki's voice, cracking with exhaustion. "Have you heard anything?" She staggered wearily into the dining area...

...and froze when she saw Shampoo and Mousse standing next to Kasumi. Her tired, blood-shot eyes immediately narrowed to angry slits. Shampoo's eyes widened, but she stood her ground.

"I'm afraid not, Nabiki," said Kasumi gently. "Father and Uncle Saotome are still out looking, and I haven't heard anything from Ryoga or Ukyo. You are the first to return..."

Nabiki wasn't listening. "You..." she said, her tired voice low and dripping venom as she glared daggers at Shampoo. "You did this to him. How'd you do it? Did you get help from that stupid white ghost cat in the jingle-bell who's always following you around? Or did you did you just dip back into your bag of black magic again to summon that cat demon?"

Shampoo looked at Nabiki blankly, expecting a verbal attack of a completely different nature. Then, the angry girl's words slowly began to penetrate the stunned fog in her brain. Cat demon? What was going on here?

"Shampoo not know what you talking," she said honestly, gazing directly into Nabiki's eyes. "We come look for Ranma because he no find Ancient One without Amazon guide."

"That's right," added Mousse. "We waited and waited for him to show up at the Nekohanten like he said he would, but he never came, so we came here thinking he might have left without us. Kasumi just told us that he wasn't here... What's going on?"

"Oh my," said Kasumi, holding a hand to her cheek. "I'm so sorry about the confusion. I thought you knew. No wonder..."

"Know what?" asked Shampoo.

Nabiki looked back and forth between Shampoo and Mousse, peering at them intently. She had naturally assumed that the purple-haired bimbo was behind the creature that attacked Ranma. After all, Ranma had just utterly destroyed Shampoo's hopes of catching him for her husband mere hours before that thing attacked him... And she figured that Shampoo thought if she couldn't have him, she'd make sure no one else would. Not to mention that Shampoo knew first hand about Ranma's cat weakness...

At least, that was the explanation Nabiki came up with as she spent the night searching the dark streets of Nerima, her mind burning with worry as she called out Ranma's name, along with the occasional, humiliating "here, kitty kitty," until she was hoarse, her hope of finding him dwindling by the minute as her anger against Shampoo grew...

Now though... She cast a critical, measuring look at the Amazon, who was gazing back at her levelly, not quite able to disguise the small spark of fear in her eyes. Nabiki had an instinct for people, for knowing when they were lying. And right now, in spite of her night of frustration, fear and fury, her instincts were telling her that Shampoo was innocent -- of last night's crime, at least. There was just a feel about her. Not to mention that Mousse was there to back her up, and he was easy to read. The myopic Chinese boy probably couldn't get away with a lie if his life depended on it, since he perpetually wore his heart on his sleeve.

Finally Nabiki sighed, looking Shampoo in the eye. "Last night, we were all packing to go to China," she said, "when we suddenly heard Ranma release a ki blast in his room that took out the wall. When we ran up to see what was going on, we couldn't get in and so Ryoga broke the door down. And there was Ranma, with this huge black demon cat leaning over him..."

Mousse gasped, and Shampoo's eyes went wide. "Demon cat?" she asked, horrified. "What happen to Ranma?!"

Nabiki watched her closely, looking for the tell-tale signs of pseudo-surprise, yet, to her great amazement, she found none. She frowned. Did that mean Shampoo really had no idea what had happened last night? She wasn't responsible for the demon cat that sent Ranma over the edge?

But if Shampoo wasn't the one to blame, then who... or what... was? And why? Why now, just when they were so close to finding a solution to the blood spell?

She sighed. She was so tired, it was hard to think straight, but she forced herself to focus anyway. "Ryoga tried to ki-blast the... demon," she said, "but it just faded away, and by then it was... too late." Her heart tightened in her chest at the memory of Ranma's unearthly yowling, the feral look of terror in his eyes... "Ryoga's ki blast scared Ranma, and he turned and hissed at us before running off..."

_Well, technically, he was a "she,"_* thought Nabiki, frowning. _Which is another strange piece to this puzzle, because I don't remember him getting wet before he went upstairs. And there wasn't any water in the room..._

Then she noticed that Shampoo had gone very pale.

Mousse noticed her pallor as well. "What's wrong, Shampoo?" he asked, his voice worried. He'd been with her all night, packing and getting ready for the trip. She _couldn't_ be responsible...

Shampoo looked up at him, her eyes wide and scared, then back at Nabiki. "I... I... Shadowcat not my fault..."

Nabiki's eyes narrowed at Shampoo's usage of the obvious title. "That may be so," she said reluctantly. "But you apparently recognize what I'm talking about. All right, spill it, Shampoo. What was that thing, and why did it come after Ranma last night?"

Shampoo swallowed and nodded. She was here to help Ranma, to try and atone for the blood spell. She would do whatever was necessary... "After Ranma defeat Great-grandmother to get Phoenix Pill using Nekoken, I ask her about why Ranma act like cat. I never see anyone be like that before. She tell me Ranma train in very dangerous, forbidden technique. Ranma act like cat because, when first train, his fear summon demon Shadowcat. Shadowcat take piece of his soul and replace it with cat soul. From then on, when Ranma too afraid of cats, the cat soul in him take over."

Nabiki and Mousse both blinked, stunned.

"Are you telling me," said Nabiki, her voice low with disbelief and shock, "that ever since Ranma was tossed into that pit of cats when he was ten years old, he's been walking around with a dormant _cat soul_ inside him? That all these times Ranma has flipped out, thinking he was a cat, he was actually _possessed_ by this cat demon?!" Nabiki had the sudden urge to track down Genma and strangle him for what he'd done to his son...

Shampoo shook her head quickly. "No, no, is not possessed by demon. Ranma still Ranma, just... Ranma cat." She frowned in frustration as she tried to explain. "Shadowcat use times when Ranma have cat-soul to feed on his ki from Kami realm. Shadowcat no can come to mortal world except when summoned by Nekoken training. All other times, it stay in Kami realm."

Nabiki blinked. "... The Kami Realm," she said coldly. "The Shadowcat comes from the Kami realm?"

Shampoo nodded weakly and looked at the floor.

"The place where you sent my sister. The place that made us all forget her, is full of demons, like the Shadowcat."

It wasn't a question, but Shampoo nodded miserably just the same, her gaze not leaving the floor.

"I see." Nabiki was silent a moment, her carefully blank expression covering her internal struggle to quell the rage that was boiling within her. _Rage leads to rashness and muddled thinking,_ she reminded herself forcibly. _Now is not a good time to lose control._

"Well," she said at last. "You say the Shadowcat can't come into the mortal world except when its been summoned by the initial Cat Fist training? I've got news for you, Shampoo." Her voice was ice. "Nobody in this house, _especially_ Ranma, was doing any Nekoken training last night, and the Shadowcat came."

Shampoo closed her eyes, yet stood firm against the accusing tone. "Shampoo not know why Shadowcat come," she replied grimly. "It not supposed to after first time. It no has power to do that."

"Well, whether or not it's supposed to, it did." Nabiki's normal calm demeanor was worn thin from exhaustion and worry, yet somehow she managed to keep it intact. "I'm beginning to suspect there's a hell of a lot more to this than either you or I realize. But that's not what's important right now." She sighed heavily, her weariness showing in spite of herself. "Ranma is gone. We can't find him. We've been looking for him all night."

Shampoo opened her eyes and looked at Nabiki. Perhaps it was because of exhaustion, but Nabiki's calm mask couldn't hide the worry and fear for Ranma that flickered brightly in her eyes. "Shampoo help you find Ranma," she said quietly. "We help find him and then we go to China to cure blood spell."

Nabiki looked at her for a long moment. Then she nodded slowly. "Sounds like a plan," she said.

Shampoo smiled hesitantly. She didn't even flinch when she felt Mousse tentatively lay his hand on her shoulder to give it an encouraging squeeze.

Nabiki noticed and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

--------------------

Masakazu blinked as he felt the warm sun beat down on his ruddy, feathered head. The sharp scent of pine needles and new spring growth, and the sound of a rushing stream filled the air. The tengu felt slightly giddy as he gazed around at the forested mountains in the brief moment of unsteadiness that followed his materialization from the void...

Masakazu liked the mortal realm. There was a feel to it, a heady earthiness like a bouquet of a fine aged wine, that was missing from the Kami Plane. The Kami Plane could be so... intangible at times...

He heaved a great sigh as he took a moment to enjoy the feel of his flesh around him, his feathers ruffling in the slight wind. That had been a close one. He was fortunate that the Council seemed to be in a relatively good mood, especially since They had a reputation of being extremely fickle in Their execution of "justice" sometimes...

But he didn't want to dwell on that. It was time to get down to business. He had to fix whatever had happened to Ranma and get back to Akane as soon as possible.

The tengu extended his senses, reaching out with his mind and soul, searching...

Ah. There. At least his aim wasn't too far off. Ranma was close by...

Masakazu blinked in surprise as his mind touched Ranma's. Then his black eyes narrowed, and he began moving towards the boy with a swift and silent urgency.

Ranma's mind was full of chaos. No words or coherent thoughts at all, just instincts and feelings -- mostly exhaustion and hunger, and a faint feeling of terror, as if he was on the edge of...

Something was horribly wrong.

The tengu came over the rise of a small hill, blending in with the trees and shadows so effortlessly that even the natural forest inhabitants were unaware of his presence. At the bottom of the hill was a rushing stream, and on the opposite bank, facing his direction, but staring intently down into the water, was Ranma.

The boy was in his cursed female form, kneeling with curled hands in front of him on the bank of the stream. His flaming red hair was in disarray, sticking out of the braided pigtail. His white, sleeveless Chinese shirt and black pants were smeared with dirt and mud, as were his face and arms. His knuckles and the palms of his hands were scratched and bloody...

...from running on all fours, Masakazu realized with a sick sensation suddenly building in his stomach.

Ranma's hand flashed out towards the water, faster than even the tengu's sharp eyes could follow, and suddenly there was a wriggling, silver fish on the bank. With a feral noise of hunger, Ranma pounced on the fish with delicate, curled fingers, and picked it up in his mouth. He then went a little ways from the stream, and began to devour the delicacy with the fervor of a starving... animal...

Masakazu shuddered slightly in horror as he realized... _The Nekoken. That means the Shadowcat's involved in this..._

_Oh, Yuki-onna, what have you _done_?_

That explained the chaotic state of the boy's mind. Ranma's human intellect had been forcibly submerged as the symbiotic cat soul, joined to him by the Shadowcat when he was a child, merged with his own soul, overwhelming it. Altering it until Ranma's humanity was practically nonexistent.

Akane was right. Ranma was in serious danger if that demon was feeding off of him. Normally, the Shadowcat merely supped delicately from its victims' ki. The demon wanted its victims to live long and healthy lives, physically if not mentally, and thus provide it with a small, but continuous supply of energy.

But Masakazu knew of a few rare instances through the centuries where the Shadowcat, needing power for some confrontation or battle in the Kami Plane, had drained its mortal victims dry, leaving nothing but an empty husk of a body in the mortal plane as a testament to the danger of the Cat Fist.

This took place long ago, however, when many a young boy was sacrificed to the Nekoken training to build up strength of conquering armies. And they were truly sacrificed, since only an infinitely few number of boys were ever strong enough have their humanity coaxed back to the surface by their grief-stricken mothers. The rest were fated to live out their lives with their minds and souls irretrievably feline, providing the Shadowcat with a luxurious supply of energy in return for the fury and power of the Nekoken.

But the technique had been banned centuries ago, and since few were foolish enough to risk the danger to their sanity and their souls these days, the Shadowcat had been deprived of its usual quota of victims...

Until Genma unthinkingly threw Ranma into the pit of starving cats seven years ago. Masakazu narrowed his eyes angrily. The boy's idiot father was fortunate that Ranma was so strong in both soul and body, and that the kindly old woman who discovered Ranma in his early minutes of his cat delirium was able to reach the part of the boy's heart and mind that missed and needed his real mother so terribly. If she had not been able to do so, Genma would have lost his son that day...

The tengu's black eyes sparked as he watched Ranma carefully strip the fish meat from the bones with his teeth. This was going to be tricky. Ranma's supernaturally enhanced feline senses would make sneaking up on him almost an impossibility, and he needed to get close enough to get a good look at his ki, as well as see if he could discover a way to get the boy back to normal.

He knew from his explorations of both Akane's and Ranma's memories that, since the old woman's death, only Akane, the person Ranma loved and trusted the most, could unwittingly coax his humanity back to the surface. That, and the shock of his body shifting with the Jusenkyo curse. Masakazu's eyes blinked in dark amusement. In that respect, Ranma's curse was a blessing. It would aid him now, since Akane was beyond his reach...

Carefully, silently, the tengu moved from tree to tree, descending down the hill towards the stream. On the other side of the bank, Ranma suddenly looked up from the fish, his lithe feminine body tensing, and glanced around sharply, eyes wide and alert.

Masakazu froze, cursing silently. _Damn, this boy is perceptive. Even with the Nekoken, I should have been able to get a lot closer before he sensed me._

He reached out mentally and touched Ranma's mind, trying to gauge his emotions. He was closer now, he could feel more...

The exhaustion was still there; the hunger partially sated. The edge of fear was still there as well. But on top of all that, raw curiosity; curiosity that overwhelmed the strange edge of fear, as Ranma looked around, trying to figure out what was sneaking up on him and where it was coming from.

If the tengu were human, he would have smiled. As it was, his bird eyes glinted in amazement. Though Ranma's humanity was gone, his underlying personality was still there, still strong, albeit twisted with his new feline perspective. In spite of suffering both a physical and mental identity crisis, the very base elements of Ranma, the pieces of him that made him who he was without all the magic and curses inflicted upon him, were still there.

Yes, this boy was strong. Stronger than any who had lived for decades, perhaps centuries, in the mortal realm. It was no wonder, then, that Fate seemed to have singled him out for experiences above and beyond the human norm. Masakazu considered this silently, as well as the potential consequences of what he was planning. He didn't want to hurt Ranma, but if the boy was frightened of him enough to attack him with the cat fist, things might get messy...

The tengu stepped out into the open.

Ranma's head jerked towards Masakazu as he sensed the movement, and his wide blue eyes stared at the tengu from a delicate feminine face that was smudged with dirt and blood. Ranma didn't appear afraid, but his slender female body was taut, ready to run from the strange creature that had just stepped from the shadows of the trees.

"It's okay, Ranma," Masakazu said quietly, approaching him slowly. "You know me, deep down. You know I'm a friend. I've helped you before, and I'm here to help you now."

Ranma flattened himself against the ground at the sound of the tengu's voice, not taking his eyes off him, a low alto growl issuing from deep in his throat as his delicate curled hands wrapped protectively around the remains of the fish.

The tengu stifled a chirping chuckle. "I'm not going to take your food away," he said gently. He stopped on the opposite bank of the stream and looked over at him. "I just need to get a good look at your ki, that's all." _And then douse you with a little water from that stream, after treating it with a simple heat spell..._

Ranma watched him warily, unmoving. The tengu narrowed his eyes and peered at him intently, looking beyond the normal spectrum to examine the cursed boy's ki...

And felt cold tendrils of dread and despair wrap around his ancient avian heart as he saw several things at once...

He saw the Snow Woman's cold spell that seemed to hover just over the surface of Ranma's skin. Masakazu could immediately tell what Yuki-onna had done, and why. No hot water would be touching Ranma as long as that spell was in place. And trapping Ranma in female form essentially trapped him in the Nekoken. She had intentionally eliminated the one thing, other than Akane, that could jar him out of his symbiosis with the cat soul within him, and break his link to the Shadowcat.

The link to the Shadowcat. Ranma had an extremely powerful ki, and he could see it flicker slightly in response to the small, yet continuous drain the demon was exacting. The blood spell, entwined deep within Ranma's ki, also flickered...

The blood spell... Masakazu's black eyes widened slightly as he saw... He then closed his eyes and sank to his knees abruptly on the bank of the river, causing Ranma to startle and jump away a few paces on the opposite side. The tengu didn't notice.

He was too late. The tiny, fluke dragon blood wisp, the unintentional transdimensional link between Ranma and Akane, was gone. It had dissolved. The only thing that was holding back the Kami Plane's spell of Forgetfulness from Ranma and Akane's minds had been extinguished. The Kami Plane was probably altering their memories at that very moment, anxious to complete its work after having been staved off for so long...

If Ranma had been in his right state of mind, he might have been able to fight it, to hang on to Akane's memory, but now... Masakazu reached out and touched Ranma's mind, just to be sure...

Nothing. Just feline impulse and raw emotion. Not a human memory to be found.

"Akane-chan," the tengu whispered, "I'm... so sorry. I didn't make it in time."

Akane had been correct in her guess that she was in danger of losing Ranma. But to lose him this way, to have the Kami Plane's spell erase everything she held dear from her mind... To not even have the bittersweet comfort of her own memories... What would she be like when he returned, with her true past gone from her?

Would she even be the same person? Her love for Ranma had been such an integral part of her personality, even when she was in denial. Without it...

He felt small drops of wetness fall into the rust-colored feathers on the back of his hands, and knew it wasn't the spray from the rushing stream...

Odd. He hadn't wept in... centuries...

But then this... this discovery seemed to be the culmination of proof of how he had failed his friends. All of them...

_Yuki-chan... I'm sorry I didn't do more to help you. Perhaps if I had eased your loneliness a bit more... you wouldn't have resorted to such desperate measures to claim Akane as your own, to fill the emptiness left by the loss of your own daughters... Now you have destroyed both Akane, and the one she loves in your attempt to own her..._

Masakazu heard the soft thud of something landing on his side of the stream. He froze, keeping his eyes closed, and waited... A minute passed, then another. Then the tengu felt a nudge against his leg. He opened his eyes and looked down to see a mop of tangled red hair, and wide blue eyes staring up at him from a dirty, feminine face.

"Mrowr?"

Masakazu shook his head, partly in amazement that Ranma had found the courage to approach him, but mostly in sadness. "I'm sorry, Ranma," he said softly. "I did what I could, but it wasn't enough. I didn't get here in time..." _The Council probably did it on purpose_, he thought darkly. _Time in the void is non-existent. They probably held me there without me realizing, until it was too late. So perhaps they were toying with me after all._

Ranma blinked, then leaned over and nudged the tengu's arm with his nose. Masakazu's eyes softened. He reached out a hand to stroke Ranma's head, but the cursed boy jerked back, wanting to sniff the strange, feathered fingers instead. Then he nipped playfully at Masakazu's index finger.

The tengu pulled his hand back, and eyed Ranma in surprise. "Well, aren't you brazen." He cocked a feathered brow and blinked. "But I suppose that's a part of you that will never change." Ranma nipped at his fingers again, and raised a paw-like hand to bat the longer feathers of his arms. Masakazu sighed, and stood, causing Ranma to jump away nervously. "I hate to tell you this, Ranma, but, contrary to appearance, I am not a bird. So don't get any ideas."

"Mrrrr."

Masakazu looked at Ranma for a moment. Ranma sat on all fours, looking up at him inquisitively. The tengu sighed and knelt down again, reaching out a feathered hand. "Come here, Ranma," he said gently. "Let's see if I can do anything about that cold spell."

Ranma cocked his head slightly, looking very kittenish in his female body, then started to come towards the tengu's outstretched hand. But before he had taken two steps, he froze. Ranma's eyes went wide and wild, his slender back arched, his red hair stood on end, and he hissed violently.

Masakazu blinked in surprise as he felt Ranma's surge of terror. "Wha--" He broke off as he felt it a moment later, a suffocating heavy feeling, slowly building...

_demon..._

With blinding speed, the tengu turned to see the Shadowcat materialize behind him. He swiftly maneuvered himself between the demon and Ranma, who was still hissing.

The Shadowcat looked at the tengu through narrowed yellow eyes, its ki glowing blackly, seeming to dampen the light of the spring sun in the forest around them. **Tengu,** it said in a low, growling voice that echoed in his head. **What are you doing here?**

**I could ask the same of you,** he replied, his own eyes narrowed to black slits over his beak. **Aren't you supposed to be in the Kami Plane?**

**That is no business of yours.**

**But it is. You see, the young mortal behind me, who is currently hissing at you, happens to be a friend of mine. I'd like to see him return to normal.**

The Shadowcat chuckled. **I'm sure you would. Unfortunately, I happen to like him the way he is.**

The tengu's eyes sparked angrily. **You are acting out of the boundaries of your jurisdiction by being here.**

**Perhaps,** the demon answered nonchalantly. **But after so long of going without an extra supply of energy, I decided to take a more direct approach.**

**Release him, and return to your domain, or I will send you there myself.**

The Shadowcat bared its teeth, then lifted a huge paw and extended its needle-sharp claws. **Absolutely not. As for the first, he is mine by right. He paid the price and accepted my gift--**

**Gift?! It is a curse. And the price was paid unwillingly.**

**No matter. He belongs to me. He has belonged to me since his tenth year, yet it is only now that our link is well and truly established. As for the second, I will not return. For if I do, I cannot come back unless I am summoned again, and fools like this boy's father are rare. This way, I can ensure that he stays mine. He is strong, this one; stronger than any I've had. I do not intend to give him up.**

And that was it. The time for words was through. Masakazu's eyes narrowed, and he began to build up his power, mentally running through his transportation spell, altering its parameters so that it would send the Shadowcat back to the Kami Plane. Less than a moment later, he attacked.

Though the Shadowcat was expecting this from a tengu, the speed and strength of Masakazu's attack caught it off guard. The demon saw the tengu turn into a blur of reddish movement, and it lashed out with its claws, connecting with nothing, yet shredding the trees behind where the tengu had been a moment ago. It twisted, trying to avoid the fiery ki blows that landed on its head and flanks, yowling in pain, to no avail. The Shadowcat fell on its side under the barrage, black ki leaking from numerous wounds.

**Do you yield? Will you go back peacefully, or do you want me to continue?** Masakazu stalled for time as the first stage of his transportation spell flickered invisibly to life right under the Shadowcat's nose.

The Shadowcat pushed itself to its feet, growling low. **I will not.** The demon grimaced painfully. **It has been a while since I have fought.** The grimace turned into a sharp-toothed grin. **Fortunately, I believe our mutual friend has some experience...** The demon cat's eyes narrowed and flashed brightly.

And Ranma's angry, terrified hissing, turned into a yowl of pain, as he suddenly collapsed.

Masakazu whirled to see Ranma writhing on the ground, his ki fluxing strangely as the flow on the demon's ki link suddenly reversed itself. The tengu turned on the Shadowcat, furious. "Stop it!" he yelled out loud. "You can't do that to him!" _Damn it, the transportation spell! First level complete, I have to start the second! Ranma..._

**Today seems to be a day for breaking rules. I certainly couldn't do this from the Kami Plane.** The demon smirked, its yellow eyes dimming to a deep, pulsing red. **You surprise me, tengu. I thought that you, of all creatures, would understand. Too late,** said the demon smugly, as Masakazu made to attack it.

The tengu turned to see Ranma, standing on all fours, growling low; wild, empty eyes gleaming a dull red as the cursed boy stalked slowly towards him. "Ranma..."

**Terribly sorry, but why should I fight my own battles when I have one of this world's greatest martial artists under my control?**

Masakazu turned to face Ranma, dropping into a defensive stance. _I can't hurt him. He's damaged enough as it is. And I've got to finish that spell._ He started working on the second level just as Ranma pounced, fingers outstretched like claws.

**Oh my, this is going to be more entertaining than I thought.** The Shadowcat watched as the tengu, and the boy with the female body and the feline mind, faded into blurs of impossibly swift movement.

Masakazu ignored the demon, dodging the shredding swipe of Ranma's hands that tore up deep gouges in the ground behind him. The boy was fast, that was a sure thing. But not as fast as he was. _Sleep points... I'll hit his sleep points, and then I can get on with this._ He jumped and dodged as Ranma came after him with inhuman speed, tearing up the landscape with furious clawing motions, reading his movements with increasingly surprising accuracy...

_Yow! That was a close one. _ The tengu didn't stop moving to see the tips of the feathers on his left arm flutter to the ground, severed. _Okay, maybe I won't be able to get his sleep points. This kid's incredible. Time to get serious. But not _too_ serious..._

Masakazu focused. As ancient as he was, he was very good at focusing. But at the moment, his focus was a bit divided. He focused on completing stage two of the transportation spell. He focused on dodging Ranma's increasingly furious attacks. And he focused on creating a small, but powerful ball of strangely charged ki in the palm of his hand...

He turned in mid-air leap to face Ranma's attack. Ranma flew at him, yowling, eyes gleaming red. But instead of dodging, Masakazu held up his hand and released the ki blast at Ranma, just as the cursed boy swiped clawed fingers in his direction.

The ki blast hit Ranma in the chest...

The tengu twisted in the air, but not far enough, and he felt the sharp pain of feathers and flesh shredding down to the bone...

Ranma flew backwards to smack into a very solid tree, shattering the trunk, toppling it. He collapsed unconscious to the ground among the splinters of wood, twitching silently as the energy from the tiny ki blast arced over his petite female body.

Masakazu landed on his taloned feet, blood seeping from four perfectly parallel gashes in his right forearm. A millisecond slower, and he would have lost his arm completely.

The tengu blinked in pain, looking over at Ranma's still form. "I like to call that my 'Tazer Ki Blast,'" he muttered. Hopefully it hadn't harmed him too severely, and yet had been strong enough to shatter the demon's control. Just to be sure...

Yes. The Shadowcat's link in Ranma's ki was back to normal, if such a thing could be called normal. As for Ranma himself...

Masakazu reached out and touched his mind briefly just to be sure the demon was no longer in there...

And gasped.

In Ranma's unconscious mind, the demon was gone. The Nekoken link was still there, unfortunately, but the feline instincts had faded to background noise. And there, right in the forefront of Ranma's thoughts; in his mind that, at the moment, could no longer form even the simplest of words... were images.

Images of Akane.

No... _Memories_ of Akane.

There she was, sparring with Ranma-onna the first night they met... And there she was carrying Ranma home on her back after Doctor Tofu made his legs go out... And there she was running below him on the sidewalk, sticking her tongue out at him as he ran on the fence... And there she was, lying in a glass coffin on a school stage with her eyes closed, tugging on his pigtail as he leaned over her, his face turning seven different shades of red as she asked him, Couldn't you just pretend? And there she was holding his hand on the way home from Ryoganzawa as Ranma struggled uselessly to work up the courage to tell her how he felt...

Masakazu couldn't believe it. It was all there. All of Ranma's experiences with Akane, all his memories of her, were all there in the boy's mind.

The Kami Plane's magic was there too. He could sense it, trying to steal away Ranma's memories as it had been doing since Akane was first spirited away...

But it wasn't working.

Even without the fluke blood spell strand; even with his humanity submerged irretrievably in his soul... It wasn't working.

Ranma remembered Akane.

It was unheard of... Was the bond between them that strong?

The tengu was astonished beyond belief. Throughout the millennia of his existence, he'd never seen such a thing...

That meant there was still a chance...

Masakazu was so happily amazed as he stared at Ranma's still form, the impossible strength of the unconscious boy's memories of Akane playing through his mind and filling his soul with the hope for his friends that he'd lost just minutes before...

...that he forgot about the searing pain in his forearm, about the blood he was losing, and he only barely managed to focus enough to complete the second level of the transportation spell with the single layer of his mind that hadn't been struck numb with joy and amazement at the strength of Ranma and Akane's love for each other, in spite of everything...

The second level of the transportation spell flared invisibly to life and a slight shimmer formed in the air behind him...

_That's right... The portal... The Shadowcat..._

Blinking, and shaking himself out of his shock, Masakazu turned to face the demon...

And suddenly found himself on his back, the Shadowcat pinning him to the ground with a huge black paw on his chest.

**Well well, the Cat has the Bird in its paws at last,** said the Shadowcat.

And, pressing firmly down on the tengu's body, extended its claws...

Masakazu felt the claws pierce his chest and abdomen, lancing through his body to the scrape hard ground beneath. His black eyes went wide, and a strangled chirping noise escaped his throat as he used his good arm to throw the demon off him. The Shadowcat landed on its feet a few meters away, chuckling softly, and licked the blood off its claws.

The tengu lay on his back, motionless as the pain from the five gaping wounds in his body spiked through his nerves...

_Well. This is a surprise. Does this mean I don't have to worry about that stupid Council anymore?_

Focus...

Masakazu struggled to his feet.

The tengu's own words came back to him as he looked down and saw his life spilling out of him; words he'd spoken to Akane two years ago in the Kami Plane...

_You lose your focus, you lose the battle..._

_Seems I could use a little work on that as well. You really threw me for one with that last comment of yours. So, your fiance fell in the Spring of Drowned Girl, did he? That must have made for an interesting relationship..._

_Seems I could use a little work on that as well..._

_focus._

_ah, it's getting dark out..._

For you, maybe. See? The sun is still high...

_oh_

_is that it?_

_i see. very well then._

_One Last Time._

_Third and. final level. Transportation spell._

_Focus._

_so hard... it's getting darker. or lighter..._

The Shadowcat was laughing. **Allmightymartialartisttengu,takenoutbythecatfist...**

And then the portal opened. A portal specially designed for a demon Shadowcat.

_that takes talent, you know. not everyone can do a spell that complicated..._

Yes, very impressive.

The small shimmering in the air grew suddenly, enveloping the surprised demon, and then closed. Disappeared, cutting off the Shadowcat's laughter.

_see? piece of cake..._

The spring sun shone brighter in the battle-scarred forest glade.

Off to the side, Ranma stirred and blinked unsteadily.

He's awake.

_yes, well, he's strong that way..._

_you know, i wasn't planning on earning a ticket to... that particular plane of existence today._

That's okay. Hardly anybody plans...

_is it as nice as the mortal realm?_

Oh, nicer.

_good..._

_don't i know you..?_

Masakazu sank to his knees, the bright spark in his black eyes fading. A thin line of blood trickled out of the edge of his beak.

And Ranma was by his side, looking into his face, his feral blue eyes anxious, nudging him a little with his nose, startling when he collapsed to the ground, coming close again, finally coming to nuzzle his side, mewing softly...

_ah, ranma, i wasn't much help. but at least the shadowcat's gone, eh?_

_you'll be better soon. you're a good man, to endure all this..._

_and such a memory you've got. akane will be fine, as long as you remember her..._

_remember me..._

_my friends..._

--------------------

In the Kami Plane, as Akane trudged wearily across a green meadow towards the looming mists on her way to another domain, she looked up as a sudden chill passed through her.

She blinked as tears inexplicably filled her eyes.

_Masakazu?_ she thought.

And in the Snow Woman's domain, Yuki-onna paused in her calligraphy, her eyes widening slightly... After a moment, she blinked, then reached up to touch the tiny blackened cracks on the pale skin of her cheeks that had not healed with time...

-------------------

End of Part Thirteen


	15. Souls in the Balance, Part 2

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are The sole creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 14: Souls in the Balance, Part Two

by Krista Perry

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Ranma, in his cursed female form, looked down through tangled red bangs at the lifeless shell of the tengu beside him.

A small frown creased between his wild blue eyes. Reaching out with a delicate paw-like hand, he swatted at the soft, rust-colored feathers on the tengu's arm, as if hoping to elicit some kind of responsive movement.

Nothing. The tengu's eyes stared sightlessly, the five wounds in his torso left by the Shadowcat's claws slowly trickling blood, staining the forest grass red.

Ranma meowed in consternation. Something wasn't right. Something was making his heart hurt in his chest. But he couldn't think, he couldn't tell what it was, and he couldn't fix it...

He leaned over and nudged the tengu again with his nose...

As he did, his eyes widened and glazed slightly as the scent of blood and feathers filled his head...

...and the feline soul that steered Ranma's thoughts told him, without words, This is a dead thing. And his senses, with the hunger that burned in his stomach, told him that this strange thing that bore so much resemblance to the flying things that his instinct told him to hunt, catch, devour... was food...

Food. He was so hungry. The fish had barely taken the edge off the ravenous hunger, and he ached with exhaustion from running all night with the unseen Shadowcat at his heels. His body cried to be fed...

Ranma paused a moment, blinking as a slight tremor passed through his female form.

Then, slowly, he raised his hand, his slender fingers curled into claws, knowing instinctively that a swipe of his paw would sever enough meat from the carcass to fill him...

Ranma shuddered suddenly, a strangled yowl escaping his throat, his clawed fingers digging into the earth as something deep within him... revolted. A tiny spark of something... lost and smothered... flickered quietly to life, piercing the black cloud of feline thought and instinct that held his soul in a vice grip.

No words. They escaped his mind like the wispy tufts of dandelion seeds caught in a wind.

But feelings, not altogether feline, swelled within him. Feelings that connected to the strange images that had been hovering on the edges of his consciousness for so long. Images that now came into sharper focus.

Images of...

He didn't know.

But it was familiar. It had _...a cute smile...?_ liquid brown eyes that gazed at him in his mind, filling him with both comfort, and a strange, hollow ache completely unrecognized by his infected soul.

He wanted to find it. If he found it, the ache would go away. He knew... instinctively... the only way he was capable of knowing anything at the moment.

But how could he find something that he only knew in his head? Ranma blinked in feline confusion as his muddled mind fought to grasp concepts beyond his capacity.

Fate is often a cruel mistress. But at times, when an individual suffers her slings and arrows with perseverance that transcends the human norm, she may soften her hand slightly. She apparently decided that, after all Ranma had suffered, he deserved a break. For at that moment, a frustrated, hoarse yell sounded close by, startling Ranma as the sound rent the silence of the peaceful spring mountain air...

"AaarrghhhhHHHHHHH... WHERE ON EARTH AM I NOW?!"

Ranma's ears pricked up at the strangely familiar noise, and all thoughts of the images and feelings were pushed aside as curiosity overwhelmed him. Without a moment of hesitation, he turned and bounded off in the direction of the sound...

... not noticing as the body of the tengu behind him shimmered slightly, then faded away, sparkling into the light of the afternoon sun...

--------------------

Ryoga looked at the forest that surrounded him, his face creased with frustration and despair. Where had all the buildings gone? Just a few minutes ago he'd been in the middle of a Tokyo suburb, tramping up and down the sidewalks, searching among the streets, vacant lots, and even the walled yards of various homes, trying to find Ranma.

"Damn you, Ranma," he muttered softly. He wanted to scream it out loud, but his initial outburst, when he realized that he was well and truly lost once again, had left his raw throat burning. He was hoarse from spending all night and all morning calling out his friend's name. He even tried calling out "Here, kitty kitty" every now and then, but the only response he got was from an elderly lady, out for some early morning shopping, who felt sorry for him and asked him what his lost kitty looked like.

He had flushed with embarrassment. What was he supposed to say? He wanted to find Ranma, and if she had seen him, she might be able to tell him which direction to look. "Well, uh... ma'am," he replied sheepishly, "he's... not really a cat. He's a guy. But he _thinks_ he's a cat. Oh, and, wait a minute, I forgot, he's not... a guy at the moment. He's a girl. He... uh, she... has red hair and..." He trailed off as the lady's look of concern faded to a scowl. Without a word, she turned and walked away.

Ryoga's head drooped. Well, at least he knew she hadn't seen Ranma. He was pretty sure that the sight of a buxom, red-haired girl running through the streets on all fours would be pretty hard to forget.

He clenched his fists. "Damn you, Ranma. Why'd you have to run off like that?"

What time was it, anyway?

The sunlight filtered through the trees at a sharp angle, casting lengthening shadows on the forest floor. The air was so quiet, except for the soft chirping of birds, and the rushing, burbling sound of a nearby stream. How could he have wandered from the city to the wilderness without realizing it?

It was hopeless. He should have known he could never find Ranma. Heck, sometimes he couldn't find Ranma even when he knew exactly where he was supposed to be. And even if he did find him, who was to say that Ranma would recognize him in his current state of mind?

Or if Ranma did recognize him, would he just run away again? Or, even worse, would he attack with the deadly Cat Fist? After all, Ryoga was the one who scared him off last night, trying to ki-blast that cat demon...

Ryoga shuddered. After seeing that monster, Ranma's fear of cats didn't seem so unreasonable. He thought of Kintaro-sensei's sharp words to Genma from a week before, when the doctor's cat sent Ranma into a gibbering, mind-numbing panic...

_It's nice to know that you believe winning a fight is more important than your son's sanity. If you could see what I see, your opinion of Cat-fu might change drastically. The technique wasn't banned without reason, you know._

The words had puzzled him at the time, but no longer. Ranma's cat phobia didn't seem nearly so funny now. Ryoga thought of his curse. To have the body of an animal was a nightmare, but to have the mind of one? Sometimes, when he was feeling especially depressed after getting unexpectedly doused with cold water, he wondered what might have happened to him had the Jusenkyo curse altered his mind as well as his body. The thought frightened him enough that he usually stopped contemplating it altogether. To lose your identity so completely? It was a fate worse than death. It was being alive, but not really.

At least, as P-Chan, he could reason. He knew who he was; could think and feel as a human being in spite of his outward form. The memory of that huge cat flickering with black ki, and the thought of what it might have done as it pressed its forehead to Ranma's, made his blood run cold...

Ryoga closed his eyes and shook his head. He was getting nowhere. The chances of him finding Ranma were practically nil. He should head back to the Tendo Dojo. If he started looking for it now, he might make it back in a week or so. And maybe by then the others would have found Ranma...

His decision made, he began to walk again, hoping, with little faith, that he was headed in the right direction...

After a few steps, he stopped.

Something...

He looked around, straining his senses as he felt...

His eyes narrowed. _Something's watching me..._

With careful casualness, he took a few more steps. After a moment, he stopped again.

_No... Something's _stalking_ me._

He was familiar with the feeling. He'd been lost in the wilderness often enough to know how it felt when some wild animal thought he might be just the thing to drag back to the den to feed the hungry little ones. They were usually starving and desperate. Or crazed. He certainly wasn't the weak or sick type that usually attracted the attention of the resident carnivores...

With a smooth motion, his hand reached behind his head to his pack and slid his umbrella from its perch. Then he turned, his senses extended, searching...

The wild thing had come up upon him so silently, he let out a startled gasp, for it was only a few meters away from him...

Ryoga blinked.

"Ranma?" he whispered.

Ranma froze in mid-motion as Ryoga turned. The cursed boy stood, carefully balanced on his curled, paw-like hands and his bare feet, watching Ryoga carefully with wild blue eyes peering through matted red bangs, his female body taut and ready to sprint away at any moment. His clothes were torn and muddy, and his delicate, feminine face and arms were streaked with dirt and blood. His knuckles were worn raw from running on all fours.

Ryoga paled, forcing back the feeling of horror at seeing his friend like this. "Oh, man. Ranma..."

He recognized the look in Ranma's eyes; recognized it from other wild animals he'd come face to face with. Ranma was hungry. And Ryoga knew what kind of appetite Ranma had. Still... in spite of the look on her...his face, Ranma didn't look like he was going to attack. Because along with the hunger, Ryoga could see... a kind of inquisitiveness..?

Did Ranma recognize him?

Ryoga swallowed, and forced himself to relax. He didn't want to scare him, after all. He couldn't believe it. He'd found Ranma!

Or rather, Ranma found him...

Ryoga's eyes widened slightly as he noticed a blackened mark on Ranma's chest, almost as if sh... he'd caught one of Happosai's happodaikarins just before it went off. What on earth..? What happened to Ranma after he ran off last night?

Slowly, Ryoga lowered his umbrella and knelt on the ground. Ranma didn't move, just watched him warily as he removed his pack from his shoulders and carefully unzipped it, reaching in to pull out a small thermos.

He hoped the water was still warm enough to change Ranma back to normal. Not taking his eyes off his cursed friend, Ryoga unscrewed the lid and stuck the tip of his index finger into the water, careful not to spill it. If, by some chance, the water had cooled, he didn't want to risk turning into a tiny black piglet in front of Ranma's hunger-filled eyes...

He sighed in relief. Yes, it was still hot enough to do the job.

Now, all he had to do was get close enough to Ranma to splash him...

Ryoga cleared his throat nervously. "C'mere, Ranma," he said. Ranma didn't move, except to crouch a bit lower to the ground. Ryoga felt the heat of embarrassment rise to his face, and he grimaced as he said, "Here, kitty kitty. C'mon now."

Ranma's expression didn't change, but there was a subtle alteration in his body language as he crouched on the ground. Ryoga could have sworn that, if Ranma had possessed cat ears, they would have been pinned back in irritation.

Ryoga scowled. After all he'd been through to find him... "Now look, you ungrateful... I'm just trying to help you!" Ranma merely blinked at him.

Ryoga clenched his fist, but then he paused, the frustration on his face fading slightly. Reaching into his pack again, he pulled out a small packet of dried, spiced beef from his food rations. He hesitated as he withdrew his hand. Beef was very expensive. And he had been saving it for himself, for his long trips...

He looked over at Ranma to see that she... _he_ had perked up, and his nose was twitching in his direction.

Ryoga felt a strange tightness in his chest. He hated seeing Ranma like this. Not just in his cursed form, even though that discomfited him more than he would ever dare admit, because Ranma's female body was so... so... _What's a safe word?!_ ...healthy...

But _this_... This was somehow worse. Ranma was, as he had always so vehemently stated, a guy. No matter what Ranma looked like on the outside, he was the same inside. Like Ryoga was the same inside, even when he was a black piglet.

Now though... Ranma's lithe feline bearing, the feral blue eyes peering curiously at him from a girl's face that had shed all traces of human expression... If anything, the Nekoken enhanced the deceptively fragile beauty of Ranma's cursed form with a disturbingly attractive, primitive wildness...

Ryoga found himself swallowing hard.

_Don't think about it. _Ryoga forced the unsettled feelings away from him. _This is Ranma. Somewhere, beyond the face, beyond the body, beyond... the way he's acting... he's still in there. He's got to be. And I'm gonna pound him to a pulp when he gets back to normal for freaking me out like this..._

Ranma meowed curiously at Ryoga, as if sensing the wrapped food he had clenched in his fist...

Ryoga's head jerked up at the inhuman sound that had just issued from Ranma's throat, the tightness in his chest squeezing a bit harder.

That settled it. He had to get Ranma back to normal that very moment, no matter what it took. Tearing open the package, he held out a thick shred of dried beef in Ranma's direction. Ranma's eyes widened with interest.

"C'mon, now," Ryoga said quietly, trying to fight down the part of him that felt ridiculous treating Ranma like a cat. "C'mere, kitty kitty. I've got some food for you."

Ranma began to hesitantly edge towards him. Ryoga held the beef out at arm's length. When Ranma was just close enough to reach it with his teeth, Ryoga pulled his arm in closer to his body.

Ranma stopped and eyed him balefully. Once again, Ryoga had the impression of cat ears flattened against his head in irritation. Ryoga grit his teeth and forced a smile. "Ungrateful son of a..." he said in that same calm, almost sweet voice. "C'mere before I break your neck."

If Ranma understood the words, he gave no sign. Instead, he edged closer to the food in Ryoga's hands until finally his petite feminine form was a mere forearm's length away from Ryoga's body. Ranma looked at Ryoga, as if trying to see if he would jerk the food away again. Then, in a quick movement, Ranma snatched the beef from Ryoga's fingers with his teeth.

Ranma immediately began chewing on the tough meat with feline fervor. Kneeling down around the food, the cursed boy began to make a contented rumbling noise deep in his slender throat as he devoured the treat.

Ryoga blinked in astonishment. Ranma was... purring? The sound was... oddly comforting. He fought the sudden, irrational urge to reach out and pet the tangled mop of red hair.

Instead, he gripped the thermos tightly, dipping his fingers in again just to be sure...

More than hot enough to do the job. He smiled. _Okay, buddy. Here it comes..._

_splash_

Ranma jumped to his hands and feet, unchanged. Still very much female. His sopping white shirt, now clinging wetly to his feminine curves, made that very apparent. With the meat still in his mouth, Ranma bounded away a few meters, shaking his dripping red hair in feline agitation.

Ryoga stared, his mouth hanging open. "Ranma..?" Sudden panic gripped him. That should have worked. Ranma should not only be male again, but in his right mind...

His eyes widened as a wave of horror washed over him.

Ranma was stuck. Stuck in his cursed form.

And stuck in the Nekoken...

Ranma shook his head with a last wet flip, and favored the stunned Ryoga with a feline glare before bounding off into the dense growth of trees, the dried beef still clamped between his teeth.

Ryoga leaped to his feet. "Ranma! Wait!" _Not again, not again!_ "Dammit, Ranma, come back here!" If he lost track of Ranma now, the chances of finding him again were astronomically against him.

Shouldering his pack with a quick movement and muttering a curse, Ryoga plunged into the thick foliage after his friend with a great leap...

...and plunged right up to his knees into the rushing stream.

Instantly, Ryoga's clothes collapsed around his changing, shrinking form, and then he was struggling desperately to swim out of his tunic before its soggy weight pulled him to the bottom of the river bed. His hind legs got tangled briefly in the rough cloth, but he kicked free, and then his snout was above water. Swimming hard against the downhill current, he reached the mossy bank and pulled his tiny, shivering body out of the snow-melt waters.

Ryoga turned and watched as the current swiftly pulled his tunic and pants downstream. His backpack and umbrella lay unmoving where they had dropped, half-submerged in the water.

Tears of bitterness and frustration filled Ryoga's eyes.

He'd lost Ranma. He'd lost himself. He was a pig again. His clothes were being washed away. His backpack was stuck in the middle of a river.

And it was all Ranma's fault.

Things couldn't get much worse.

He bweed angrily at the injustice of it all. Stupid Ranma. Try to help him, and what does he do? Run off and leave you in a lurch. He glared at his backpack, in lieu of Ranma, and tried to figure out how he was going to get his stove and kettle from the pack to dry ground...

A slight tingle of his battle sense was all the warning he had. The little black pig didn't even have a chance to turn before he felt himself swatted hard. Ryoga rolled and smacked against the raised root of a tree. He shook his head groggily as he tried to regain his feet, but his vision was whirling. All he saw, before another blow stole his consciousness away, was a flash of red hair, and wild, hunger-filled eyes...

--------------------

In the Tendo dining room, Kasumi quietly served a very late dinner to the sullen company who knelt around the table. All was silent except for the occasional low, hiccupping sob from Ukyo as she tried unsuccessfully to hold back her tears of frustration. Nabiki, feeling none too happy herself, nevertheless kept her calm mask in place. She... felt bad for Ukyo. The okonomiyaki chef was exhausted, her emotions running high after staying out longer than any of the rest of them, searching, calling...

She came back to rest only because Nabiki, fresh from a power nap, found her and forced her to return before she collapsed. Even then, Ukyo had only relented when Nabiki threatened not to call her if anyone else found Ranma when she was out searching.

When they returned well after dark, and found Shampoo and Mousse back from their own search, Nabiki then had to hastily explain to a furious Ukyo that Shampoo wasn't responsible for the demon cat, and that they were here to help. Unfortunately, her explanation didn't come fast enough to prevent Ukyo from giving Mousse a good, solid taste of her spatula when he stepped in front of her attack on Shampoo...

Nabiki glanced over at Shampoo and Mousse, who sat at one end of the table, keeping themselves carefully separate from the others. Shampoo stared at her hands folded in her lap, seemingly oblivious to the concerned looks Mousse cast at her every now and then. Mousse's face was still red from the impact of Ukyo's spatula. He was going to have one hell of a bruise. But at least Ukyo hadn't broken his glasses...

Ryoga hadn't returned, of course. But then, she didn't expect to see him for at least another week or so.

Even Genma and her father, sitting at the other end of the table, were uncharacteristically grave. The feeling about them went far beyond their usual mock seriousness, which was usually just a lot of bluff and bluster anyway.

Genma looked especially stricken, far more so than she could ever recall seeing him. It made her wonder if the fool was actually feeling genuine remorse for what he'd inflicted upon his son, perhaps for the first time in his life. Genma's prevalent attitude in training Ranma seemed to be that any experience -- whether it be swimming to China, or surviving the attentions of the numerous fiancees the man had inflicted on him throughout his life, or being thrown into a pit of starving cats -- was _good_ experience as long as you could eventually crawl away alive.

Ranma was alive, but...

Nabiki picked up a piece of shrimp with her chopsticks and munched automatically. Though Kasumi's cooking was as excellent as always, it seemed tasteless to her...

"Eat." Nabiki looked up at the sound of Kasumi's soft, but firm command, and saw her older sister kneeling across from her, but looking at Ukyo. "Please," Kasumi continued when Ukyo raised her eyes to meet her own. "You need to eat to build up your strength, dear."

Ukyo looked down, her long chestnut hair hanging over her face, hiding the deep shadows under her eyes. "I'm sorry, Kasumi-san," she said, her voice hoarse and scratchy, "but I... I'm not very hungry."

Kasumi smiled sadly. "I know you're... distracted," she replied gently. "But you can't help him if you don't have the strength or stamina to find him."

Ukyo's eyes flickered briefly with despair. Then her expression hardened with determination. "Yes," she said, and picked up her chopsticks. "I'll find him..."

Nabiki's cell phone rang in her jacket pocket, causing her, and everyone else at the table, to jump. Pulling it out quickly, she flipped the tiny device open, aware of the anxious stares she was receiving from all around. Ukyo was nearly leaning over her...

"Yes?" Nabiki said into the phone, keeping her voice remarkably steady.

Silence. The group around the table held their breath...

Nabiki frowned and closed her eyes.

The people around the table sagged back into their places with fallen expressions.

"I see," Nabiki said quietly, tightly. "Yes, well, have them keep looking. Have you checked with the police again? No reports of... Fine. Expand the parameters again, and keep moving in a grid pattern. Ask more questions. Somebody _has_ to have seen something... Don't worry about that. Just do it."

She closed her phone, put it back in her pocket, and stared at her shrimp.

Genma muttered something unintelligible, his head bowed low.

"What was that, Saotome?" asked Soun.

Genma just shook his head. "My son," he whispered. "My only son. What have I done?"

Ukyo glared at the man with an expression of disgust reserved just for him. "Oh, sure," she said, her voice dripping with anger. "Only now you're wondering? What the hell were you thinking, throwing a child into a--"

"I think we've had this discussion before," Nabiki interrupted, holding up her hand. "And it's not going to get us anywhere. We need to eat and get some rest so we can go searching again. Any arguments, fights, maimings, or feelings of guilt can wait until after we find Ranma. Got it?" With that last, she looked directly at Ukyo.

Ukyo relaxed slightly and nodded, still glaring at Genma, who hadn't raised his head.

Nabiki sighed. There was another factor to this whole mess that had been overlooked in the rush to find Ranma.

"And we can't forget," she said, "there's also the matter of Akane."

Shampoo winced, and her father began to get teary-eyed at the thought of the daughter he couldn't remember.

Nabiki continued calmly, yet not quite able to cover the slight strain in her voice. "None of us may... recollect her at the moment, but we've already established that she does exist, and not just as a figment of Ranma's imagination or the blood spell. She's still trapped in the Kami Plane. And, as you've all been made aware, the Kami Plane is full of demons, like the Shadowcat that attacked Ranma last night. In fact, Ranma claimed that Akane was already in the hands of a demon, or an evil spirit, known as Yuki-onna, the Snow Woman."

Nabiki looked around at the others. Perhaps her words seemed blunt and callous, but they needed to be said. Even though they were now aware that Akane was real, it was still so easy to just... not worry about her. After all, none of them had any real memories of her to back up what they knew...

"We have to find Ranma," she said softly. "Not just for his own sake... but because without him, we can't rescue my sister. The fate of not just one, but two people lie in our finding Ranma, and bringing him back to himself."

Ukyo stiffened suddenly.

Nabiki noticed, and suppressed a deep, almost annoyed sigh. Ukyo was not taking the news of the reality of Akane's existence well...

"Did you hear that?" whispered Ukyo.

Nabiki blinked.

Mousse had his head cocked slightly. "I heard something too," he said.

Everyone froze. The silence in the dining room was almost tangible.

Then... a faint mewing...

Ukyo looked over at Nabiki. "Ranchan..?" she said, almost in disbelief.

Nabiki's eyes widened. "Can't be," she said.

They heard it again, closer.

Ukyo jumped immediately to her feet, and ran to the screen door, sliding it open and running out into the cool night air, followed closely by Nabiki and the others.

"Ranchan!" called out Ukyo.

"There!" Shampoo pointed. "Aiya, Ranma!"

Ranma was on the wall that surrounded the house, standing on all fours, his female silhouette illuminated by starlight. Ranma's feral blue eyes caught the light shining through the open dining room door, glowing impossibly from his delicate, shadowed face, and his wild red hair had somehow been torn from its pigtail fastening, flowing around his shoulders like a lion's mane in the darkness.

"Oh my," said Kasumi, coming up behind them. "Is he alright?"

"I... I don't know," said Ukyo, the relief in her voice tinged with uncertainty and a touch of fear. "Ranchan?"

Genma looked at his female son, his face carefully blank. "I'll get some hot water," he said, and went back into the house.

Nabiki frowned, staving off her own feelings of relief until she knew for sure.... Ranma was back. But he just watched them, hadn't moved since they emerged from the house.

Then her eyes narrowed, and a sick feeling flooded her stomach. _Oh no._ "He's got something in his mouth," she said.

Ukyo swallowed hard. "Ranchan... come down. Please..." Ranma's shadowed gaze turned on her. He looked so... inhuman. If Ranma had... had killed a bird or a rat...

She suppressed a shudder. _It's not his fault, he doesn't know what he's doing,_ she thought. _He's back, that's all that matters_. "Ranchan..." she called, her voice a bit stronger. "Come here... kitty kitty..."

Ranma paused a moment, then leaped down from the wall and walked cautiously towards Ukyo. As the light from the house illuminated Ranma's face, Ukyo gasped, and Ranma froze. "Oh! P-Chan!"

"P-Chan?!" Nabiki knelt down in front of Ranma. He turned his wild blue gaze to her curiously, and she saw that he did indeed carry the tiny black piglet in his mouth, holding it by the bandana around its neck. The pig was unconscious, or...

Nabiki exchanged a worried glance with Ukyo. Then she held out her hands. "Ranma..." she said softly. "Give me P-Chan. Give me P-Chan, okay?"

Ranma just looked at her.

"Is cat, not dog," said Shampoo softly, her gaze, hollow and haunted, flickering between Ranma's face and the creature he held in his mouth. "Ranma no give you piglet. He think it his."

"Well," said Ukyo uncertainly, "P-Chan is Ranma's pet, after all..."

Just then, the little piglet's eyes flickered open groggily. Nabiki heard soft exclamations of relief from both Mousse and Shampoo. Strange, that they would be so concerned about a pet pig...

P-Chan's eyes suddenly widened, and he bweed, wriggling frantically as he dangled precariously from Ranma's mouth.

"Mrorw!" As soon as P-Chan started moving, Ranma dropped him to the ground, his paw-like hands on either side of him. P-Chan landed with a thud and a squeal, then jumped to his feet, staring at Ranma with wide eyes. Ranma crouched down, nose to nose with the little pig, feline eyes wild and sparkling.

P-Chan began to nervously back out from between Ranma's paws, his eyes never leaving Ranma's face...

...but before he could get too far, Ranma pounced gleefully and pinned him to the ground. P-Chan bweed indignantly as Ranma began to bat at him with curled hands.

Nabiki didn't know whether to be worried... or to burst out laughing.

The whole situation was just too weird. Ranma was back, there was no sign of the Shadowcat demon, much to her relief, and Ranma was acting... well, the way he usually acted when he was in the Nekoken, instead of the panicked, maddened frenzy he was in when he ran off the night before.

"Ranchan!" Ranma froze at Ukyo's sharp tone, and looked up at okonomiyaki chef, blinking innocently. Ukyo reached out and plucked the slightly battered P-Chan from between Ranma's hands. The little black pig was shaking, its eyes narrowed in fury, but Ukyo didn't notice. She set the pig down behind her, out of Ranma's reach, and stretched her hands out to her fiance. "Come here, Ranchan..." she said softly. "Come here, kitty kitty..."

Ranma meowed indignantly at having his plaything taken away, and watched, tensed, as P-Chan made a quick break for the house. Ranma made to chase, but Ukyo called him again, with soft urgency in her voice. He stopped, and cocked his head at her. After a moment of feline indecision, he came up to her and rubbed his red hair against Ukyo's outstretched hand.

The cursed boy began to purr.

Ukyo couldn't help but smile, but it was a smile full of strain. "Where's that hot water?" she asked, her voice tight.

"Uncle Saotome is heating the water right now," said Kasumi.

Nabiki looked at Ranma intently, her mind whirling. After rubbing up against Ukyo, Ranma sat on his haunches and began to lick his delicate, curled hand, first cleaning the scrapes on the knuckles and palm where they were worn raw from running, and then swiping his hand over his red bangs in swift, precise movements.

A disturbed frown creased between Nabiki's brows, her expression a mere shadow of what she was feeling as she took note of Ranma's injuries. Kasumi would have to clean and bandage his hands so they wouldn't get infected.

"Here's the hot water," said Genma, coming up behind Ukyo. Ranma tensed suddenly, and growled low in his throat, his feral blue eyes narrowing at the man holding the kettle.

Genma's stone expression twitched slightly, and he set the kettle down. "I'd... better wait over there," he said, and walked over to stand by Soun.

Ryoga stuck his snout cautiously around the corner of the screen door. He bweed a soft sigh of relief as he saw that Ranma wasn't chasing him. The past few hours had been a nightmare. He would regain consciousness, only to find himself hanging from Ranma's mouth as Ranma stealthily ran through wilderness and suburb. After the first few times of waking up dangling in his precarious position, he finally learned his lesson: Don't struggle. The moment he would move, Ranma would stop, drop him, and "play" him into unconsciousness.

The only problem was, in spite of Ryoga's thick neck and minimal weight in his piglet body, the bandana around his neck that Ranma carried him by was uncomfortable in the extreme. If he shifted the wrong way, the bandana pressed against his esophagus and cut off his air supply, and he would struggle instinctively for air, sending Ranma into another fit of feline playfulness. And no matter what he did, he couldn't escape. Ranma was just too fast. Ryoga's head throbbed from the lumps caused by Ranma's roughhousing.

The black piglet's eyes narrowed intently as he watched the scene in the back yard from his safe position. Ukyo was getting ready to pour the steaming hot water on Ranma's head...

_splash_

"Mrorw!"

Ryoga sagged a bit, not really surprised. So it hadn't been a fluke. Ranma really was stuck, doubly cursed. He turned and ran quickly to look for the laundry, grateful that Kasumi had offered to wash his spare outfits for him, since all his other clothes and belongings were sitting in the middle of a stream somewhere. And he had no intention of spending another moment as a tiny pig with Ranma the way he was...

Ukyo held Ranma, her arms around her fiancé's neck, flinching slightly as he shook the water out of his red hair. "Wh-what happened?!" she asked, as everyone looked on with stunned expressions. "Why didn't he change back?"

No one answered. They just stared in shock and horror as Ranma squirmed out of Ukyo's grip, then began to groom his wet face and hair with a curled hand.

Then Ukyo's eyes widened, and she reached up with one hand to touch her face where the water from Ranma's hair had splattered her. She looked at Ranma for a moment, then reached out to touch the long, sopping hair that spilled over his shoulders, and squeezed water from the red strands. Her eyes went wide, and she turned to Nabiki.

"The water," said Ukyo. "It's cold. Like ice, almost."

Nabiki stared at Ranma. Indeed, Ranma seemed to be shivering slightly, even as he tried to clean the water from her... himself. Nabiki took the kettle away from Ukyo and stuck her hand into the remaining water. "Impossible," she said, traces of frustration and anger seeping into her level voice. This was supposed to work. Ranma was supposed to be back to normal, so that he could rescue Akane. "This water's hot, there's no way it could turn cold so..."

Nabiki trailed off suddenly, the blood falling from her face. Ukyo eyes widened. "Nabiki?"

Cold...

The Snow Woman. Akane was with the Snow Woman.

And, last night, Ranma had finally discovered a possible way of breaking the blood spell, of rescuing Akane from the Kami Plane.

The Shadowcat came from in the Kami Plane.

Nabiki blinked, horror building within her as pieces of the mystery began to fall into place. Standing, she walked over to Ranma, slowly, so as not to startle him, then knelt down next to him as he continued his cleaning task. He seemed apathetic about her close proximity. For that, she was grateful, since he tended to be a bit skittish when he was a cat.

She put her hand on his shoulder. Ranma paused, and looked at her briefly before resuming his task.

Carefully, Nabiki poured a small stream of hot water from the spout of the kettle over Ranma's shoulder, where her hand rested. The steaming hot water ran over the tops of her fingers, turning them slightly red, then trickled down, pooling between her fingers to touch Ranma's dirtied, white sleeveless shirt and the skin underneath...

... and turned icy cold.

Ukyo felt fear clutch her stomach as she watched Nabiki's pale face blanch even more as she poured the water over her hand. "The water turned cold, didn't it," she said. "Why? What's going on?"

Nabiki just looked at her reddened hand, her expression grim and silent, her mind churning...

"Is it the Chiisuiton?" asked Mousse softly, not taking his eyes off Ranma. "Do you think Herb is behind this?"

Nabiki blinked, then turned her icy countenance towards the Chinese pair, her eyes meeting Shampoo's, rather than moving up to meet Mousse's myopic gaze. "No," she said, slowly, deliberately. "Offhand... I'd say the Snow Woman and the Shadowcat are behind this."

Shampoo paled as Nabiki's meaning sank in.

"The Snow Woman?" Ukyo blinked, and a flurry of emotions crossed over her face as the meaning of the reference penetrated her mind. "What are you saying? Are you saying that..."

She trailed off, not wanting to voice the fear that filled her with Nabiki's serious expression; her confident, yet grave words...

And yet... She had to know. She had to help Ranma...

Ukyo inhaled deeply. "You're saying that the Snow Woman did this to Ranma so that he couldn't break the blood spell and rescue... Akane..." She said it, not as a question. Because, as the words came out of her mouth, she knew. It was the only explanation that made sense of the confusion of the past 24 hours. She didn't even see Nabiki's slight nod in response.

Ukyo sank back on her heels, looking at her fiance, her eyes wide with fear and dismay brought on by desires both altruistic and... not so. Her mind whirled with the implications, and her heart tightened in her chest to the point of physical pain. Tears welled in her eyes. "Oh Ranchan..."

Nabiki stared at Shampoo, watching as the Amazon began to tremble slightly.

_That's right_, Nabiki thought, staring into Shampoo's wide violet eyes. _This is all your fault._

Shampoo stared at the ground, unable to meet the accusation in Nabiki's gaze any longer. But Nabiki was right. The Kami Plane... None of this would have happened if she had never cast the blood spell.

And Ranma... This creature in front of her, with the mind of a cat and the body of a girl, was a gross distortion of the man she loved; a twisted mockery of the man who had stood before her just the night before, so strong and handsome and noble even in his anger towards her. The man she no longer had the right to claim as her husband.

All her fault...

Mousse was right. She had to fix it. No matter what the cost.

But how? Even if she went all the way back to China and somehow convinced the Ancient One to break the blood spell, it wouldn't change Ranma's present predicament. And right now, her main concern was getting Ranma back to normal, not rescuing her would-be rival from the Kami Plane.

Shampoo's eyes lit with realization. "Aiya," she whispered. "Great-grandmother."

"What was that, Shampoo?" asked Mousse.

She looked up at him. "Great-grandmother maybe know way to help Ranma. She know all about Nekoken."

"No way." Shampoo turned at the cold statement to see Ukyo standing protectively in front of Ranma, her bright eyes, still shimmering with unshed tears, narrowed in anger. Her hand reached instinctively behind her to grasp the handle of her battle spatula. "Out of the question, sister. There's no way I'm letting that old witch near Ranchan. Heck, I'm not too happy about letting _you_ near him, after what you've done to him!"

Shampoo met Ukyo's gaze solemnly. "Shampoo already say I sorry," she said quietly.

Ukyo clenched her teeth against the fury that was building inside her. "Not good enough!" Her battle aura began to flicker around her. "Look at him! This is all _your fault_! If you ever really cared about him at all, you would never have cast that blood spell!" Ukyo's voice caught in her throat as tears welled with her anger. "You would have... let _him_ choose..."

Shampoo's flinched. But then, looking at Ranma, who was looking up at Ukyo with feline inquisitiveness, her expression firmed, and she stood straighter despite the ache of guilt that welled within her.

"Shampoo know it," she said quietly. "And Shampoo vow to make up for what I do. I no care what you think, spatula girl. I already lose everything, and I get nothing for help. Ranma angry at me for what I do. He... never love me. And now he no like me. Maybe never like me again."

Ukyo blinked.

Shampoo's expression was calm, even though wetness began to build behind her violet eyes. Still, she looked up and met Ukyo's surprised gaze. "You lucky," she said hoarsely, gesturing at Ranma. "Ranma always like you. Even now, as cat, he like you. Shampoo no even have that. All Shampoo have left is small chance to restore fallen honor. Only if Shampoo fix what I do to Ranma, then... even if Ranma no... like me..."

Shampoo closed her eyes, and a single tear slid down her cheek. "Maybe then... I have... peace," she said quietly. "Maybe..."

Ukyo's battle aura faded. She looked at Shampoo, the anger in her eyes softening slightly, even as the wetness remained. The naked sincerity in the Amazon girl's countenance was undeniable. "Shampoo..."

And Ranma, who was at that moment examining a small insect crawling through the grass, froze suddenly. He looked up and past the people gathered around him, his wide eyes narrowing to sparking slits of blue fire. Ranma arched his back and hissed.

Shampoo paled. Ukyo whirled, and Nabiki and the others took an instinctive step back. "Ranchan! What's wrong?"

Ranma wasn't listening. His red hair was spiking, and he was growling low in his throat, staring at something hidden in the darkness, above and beyond the wall that surrounded the yard.

"He sense something," said Shampoo worriedly.

"Maybe the demon has come back," said Mousse.

Nabiki looked at Ranma, alarmed, the same thought running through her mind. "Quickly, we've got to calm him down," she said sharply. "We can't have him running off again."

Ukyo immediately knelt down next to Ranma and wrapped her arms around her fiancé's tense body, linking her hands around his neck so that he couldn't run.

"Are you sure that's wise?" asked Nabiki, as Ranma continued to growl at the darkness beyond the wall. "If he tries to run, he could rip your arms off."

"Ranma won't hurt me," Ukyo said softly. And she began to talk to him soothingly. "It's okay, Ranma. It's okay, I'm here..."

Nabiki's eyes widened, and she raised an eyebrow as she saw Ranma's tense form relax slightly as Ukyo whispered to him. Still, he growled in his throat...

Shampoo peered into the darkness, straining her senses to the limit...

She turned to the others. "Shampoo no think it demon," she said. "It no feel like it. But... think it good to get Ranma inside house. Then it harder for him if he try to run away."

Nabiki nodded, peering into the deep shadows and seeing nothing, _feeling_ nothing that might be a threat. That in itself confirmed what she suspected, and she raised an eyebrow at Shampoo. "Agreed," she said. "Let's get him into the house. Ukyo, do you think you can... pick him up? I don't know if he'll come willingly." Ranma's narrowed feline gaze was practically blazing with desire to run off into the darkness after the threat he sensed. But he didn't move against Ukyo's firm, yet gentle hold on him.

Ukyo didn't reply, she just kept whispering calming words to Ranma as she shifted her grip, wrapping her arms around Ranma's tense, petite female body. He continued to growl in that eerie feline way, but he didn't struggle against her, much to her relief. She was _almost_ glad that he was in his cursed form as she carefully lifted him into her arms. He was so light this way...

Shampoo glanced over her shoulder into the darkness. "We go into house now," she said nervously.

Ukyo quickly carried an unresisting Ranma carefully, if a bit awkwardly, into the house, followed closely by Nabiki and the others. Shampoo was the last through the screen door, and Mousse peered at her intently through his glasses as she glanced out into the darkness briefly one last time before sliding the door shut.

--------------------

Cologne watched from the shadows of a neighboring rooftop as Shampoo seemed to look directly at her before disappearing behind the closed screen door of the Tendo dining room.

A severe, yet troubled frown creased her ancient face as she carefully fingered a tiny opaque bottle in one hand.

Closing her eyes, she shook off the feeling without moving a muscle. She hadn't lived for three centuries without knowing how to adapt to unexpected happenings.

And _this_ was certainly unexpected. She had suspected something unusual after returning from China to find the Nekohanten closed and Shampoo and Mousse nowhere to be found.

But this... She snorted softly. That fool of a great-granddaughter had apparently told all. And after all her warnings before the blood spell! Shampoo _knew_ that once the blood spell was cast, there could be no turning back from their course.

Cologne shook her head with weary disgust. Shampoo had gone soft, abandoning her Amazon pride and honor, all for the sake of... what? Son-in-law's friendship? His love? Shampoo didn't realize what a useless, self-defeating gesture she had made. Their original plan to snare Son-in-law now lay in tatters, without a hope of salvage.

Not only that, but to complicate matters, it seemed certain... entities... in the Kami Plane were as averse to allowing Ranma to break the blood spell as she was, and had taken drastic measures to ensure he was no longer capable of even _thinking_ about taking action, let alone doing anything about it.

Ironically, not too far off from what she originally planned, she thought. Cologne tucked the now-useless bottle carefully away in her robes. Nekoken or no, there was no point in using the mind-numbing potion on Ranma as long as he was stuck in female form; he would be of no use to Shampoo that way. A cure to unfreeze Ranma from his cursed form would have to be found first. And once a cure was found, that would take care of the nasty little Cat-fist problem as well...

But she wouldn't be the one to find it, for two reasons. First of all, to see if a cure was even possible, she would have to get close enough to Ranma to examine him properly -- something she had no desire to do in his current state. Second of all, she had already experienced more than her share of frustration over the whole mess. If Shampoo was fool enough to throw her lot in with those outsiders for the time being, so be it. Let them suffer, all of them. Let Ranma remain a girl in body and a beast in mind for a while, and let the others agonize over him. Perhaps, when they were sufficiently humbled, she might see what she could do about helping Ranma...

Cologne narrowed her eyes slightly, annoyed that Ranma had been able to detect her presence. She had been using all of her vast abilities to erase all sense of her presence, and yet, when she had moved the slightest bit closer to gain a better vantage to watch and eavesdrop on the proceedings in the Tendo yard, Ranma had known she was there, had known exactly where she was. He might have attacked as well, had it not been for the intervention of the okonomiyaki girl...

Just as well. Ancient and experienced as she was, she had no desire to go up against the power of the Cat Fist.

At least, not yet...

Cologne turned, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, leaving the Tendo household behind.

She was patient. She could watch and wait, for now. There was no danger of the blood spell being broken, no danger of Akane being rescued. As for her great-granddaughter... She would deal with her later. Perhaps, under the circumstances, her show of weakness was forgivable. Shampoo may be feeling unnecessary guilt for the chaos resulting from the blood spell at the moment, but once they were back home in China, with Ranma at her side, she would feel better.

Yes. There was still a chance. Even with this setback, Shampoo's honor could yet be salvaged.

And, with an ease borne of almost three centuries of practice, Cologne ignored the perpetual hard knot of fear and guilt in the center of her being that told her it was all wrong, and kept running...

--------------------

"Oh my," said Kasumi as Ranma snatched another shrimp from her outstretched fingers with his teeth. "That's the last one. His appetite doesn't seem to have changed much."

Mousse's eyes were wide as he watched Ranma devour the last scrap of food on the table. "He must have been starving," he muttered.

"Actually, this is about normal for him," responded Ukyo with a half-smile, grateful to recognize a bit of the old Ranma in her cursed fiance.

Ranma began to carefully wash his face with his paw, cleaning the smears of food from around his delicate mouth. The tall ones sitting around him continued to make quiet, incomprehensible chattering sounds, which he found easy to ignore.

He felt better. The hunger pains in his stomach were gone. The bad thing outside was gone, having run off after he'd been carried into the house by one of the familiar tall ones. He was home. He was warm and comfortable... and sleepy. Yawning hugely, he arched his back and stretched, extending his claws and scratching idly at the floor rug under the dining room table, inadvertently shredding it.

Somewhere in the house, he could hear that small, familiar creature that he'd brought home to play with. It seemed to be wandering around aimlessly, from the sound of it. His ears pricked up, and he momentarily entertained the idea of hunting it down to play with again.

But he was tired and he ached, and at the moment, sleep seemed to be the best idea. He walked over to a soft cushion and curled up on it, tucking his paws and hind legs under his petite form, and closed his eyes. The soft, incessant chattering of the tall ones continued to flow around him, but it meant nothing, and was almost comforting in a way...

Comforting... Now that his belly was full, and all threats and distractions gone -- even the tall stocky hairless one was keeping its distance, much to his relief -- he felt that same strange ache in his chest. It wasn't really a physical pain. It was different; a hollowness connected to the images still floating on the edges of his consciousness. Images of... a tall one. A tall one who wasn't there with the others in the room.

Ranma stirred on the cushion in discontentment. All was _not_ right. He needed to find this tall one with the shining brown eyes that would make the ache go away. This need, this desire, overwhelmed his body's desire to rest. Opening his eyes, he stood from the cushion and began to pace restlessly. The chattering sounds of the tall ones grew slightly in volume and changed in cadence, becoming more intense, almost curious. He felt their gaze on him, but he ignored them.

He sniffed the floor carefully. So many scents of so many things, the most recent scents overwhelming the faint traces of the older ones. And yet... There it was. A scent separate and distinct from the others. So old, with many new layers of scent over it, but it was there. And it fit with the images in his mind.

The ache in his heart swelled and surged at this discovery, and he meowed, lifting his head and looking around as if hoping the tall one that he needed would appear. Then another tall one, the one who carried him into the house, was in front of him, making soft chattering noises, reaching out to him with its long limbs. But though this one was nice, and made him feel good, this one wasn't the one he was looking for.

He turned and, with his head close to the ground, began to follow the old scent. Sometimes it faded away to nothing, sometimes it broke off in different directions. He followed where it was strongest. The other tall ones followed closely behind him, chattering, chattering...

He followed the scent up the stairs and into the long hallway. The familiar little black creature that he carried home was wandering around at the end of the hall. It saw him and froze, its eyes wide with apprehension. But he ignored it. The scent was strong, the _feeling_ strong, the ache inside him growing with each step...

The scent stopped abruptly at the base of a strange barricade. He had seen barricades like this before, and knew that the tall ones had ways of moving them to get through by touching the shiny round thing. He reached up with a paw and touched it, but nothing happened. He looked behind him and the group of tall ones who had followed him. Oddly enough, they were staring at him, their chattering silent for once.

He looked at them and meowed, scratching at the door and sending curled wood shavings fluttering to the floor.

One of the tall ones, the one with short, light brown fur on its head, blinked at him, then reached out to touch the shiny round thing, and the barricade opened for him.

The scent was there, old and faded with time, yet still overwhelming. Ranma blinked as a sound flitted through his mind, connecting with the scent and the images...

_...akane..._

The tall one he needed so badly should be here. Its scent was here, almost untainted by other scents. He looked around, sniffing. It should be here. But it wasn't. The ache hurt.

He called out to it, crying, meowing, over and over again, hoping it would come.

The other tall ones stood crowded in the barricade opening, watching him silently. The nice tall one, with the long dark brown fur tied in a white ribbon, had strange wet streaks running down its face...

The one he needed wasn't there.

But it would come back... wouldn't it?

He would wait.

Ranma curled up in the middle of Akane's bedroom floor and closed his eyes.

Everyone, even Ryoga, crowded in the doorway and gazed at Ranma's curled female form, the significance of their cursed friend's actions weighing heavily in their hearts and minds.

"Oh my," said Kasumi at last, breaking the silence. "I wish I could remember Akane. Ranma really seems to care about her."

Ukyo flinched and turned away, wiping her face with her fingertips. "Excuse me," she said, her voice barely audible. "There's... something I need to... do. I've got to go now."

Nabiki looked after her retreating form as she walked down the stairs. "Ukyo."

Ukyo stopped, but didn't turn around.

Nabiki didn't know what to say. What _could_ she say, after that? She was good... no, excellent at reading people, right down to the center of their pocketbooks. But actual human relations were definitely not her forte. And Ukyo was hurting after witnessing...

"Will... you be back?" she asked lamely.

Ukyo paused, still not turning. Then, a barely perceptible nod of her head. "Ranchan needs my help. Our help. He can't stay like this forever. We have to find a cure." And then she was gone, out the front door.

"Well," said Soun, awkwardly breaking the silence that followed, while looking at Ranma. "_Now_ what do we do?"

No one seemed to have an answer. Not even Nabiki.

--------------------

Akane limped wearily and blindly through the thick mists. She really hated this part of traveling through the Kami Plane. Even after all the hundreds of times she'd traversed the mists, she still couldn't get used to it. It was creepy and cold and utterly disorienting. She never could tell if she was traveling in a straight line, or wandering around in circles. Then again, she supposed it didn't really matter since, for all the times she'd ventured into the mists, she'd never emerged in the same place twice.

A constant roulette wheel. She never knew where she was going, or who or what she was going to run into when she got there.

Akane heaved a great sigh, stirring the dark mist in front of her face. At least it was never boring. The Kami Plane was _definitely_ not boring. Anything but. There was always something new. Always some new demon who wanted to drag her away as a bride or a slave, always some new demi-god or goddess that thought she might be an entertaining mortal plaything until she convinced them otherwise with the ki-infused edge of her katana.

Oh _gods_, she wished life was a bit more boring.

Or at least, what passed for boring in her previous life. Getting mobbed by the male population of Furinkan High School didn't seem nearly so bad now. Heck, she even missed Kuno's bad poetry...

Her stomach growled.

Food. A nice, normal bowl of steaming ramen. _That_ sounded good. It didn't even have to be deluxe ramen. Good old, plain, regular ramen. No exotic or enchanted food that could put you to sleep or bind you permanently to a domain (she had to be _so_ careful about that), no mystical springs or rivers where you had to bargain for two hours with a cucumber-craving kappa before you could get a drink...

Of course, she didn't _really_ have to worry about food ever since she wandered into Inari's realm. The Goddess of Rice didn't have the power to lift the blood spell, which was too bad, because she was friendly enough. Instead, she gave Akane a magical, inexhaustible bag of rice. While Akane had been extremely grateful to the goddess for saving her from starvation, she was now so sick of rice she knew could be happy if she lived the rest of her life without seeing another white grain of the stuff.

On top of that, she _still_ had to make the laborious, painstaking effort of finding other safe foods so she didn't suffer malnutrition as a result of a one-sided diet...

Oh, for a little variety. _Safe_ variety....

Kasumi's cooking... mmmm...

A scowl crept across Akane's face. Not that she didn't wish for a taste of Kasumi's cooking. Quite the contrary. But not even a month had passed since her encounter with Kojin, the God of Kitchens, and she was still a little upset. She hadn't taken five steps into his realm before he showed up in a rage and physically threw her back into the mists with a threat not to come back. Then he stomped away, muttering something along the lines of "Why couldn't Kasumi get sucked into the Kami Plane?"

Of all the nerve. And she'd bet anything that he'd never even _tried_ her cooking. For him to insult her like that...

Akane sighed. On the other hand... Oh, what she wouldn't give to hear Ranma insult her cooking...

She wondered what Ranma was doing right at that moment. If he was okay.

If he missed her, like she...

_Ah, there it is. You've come full circle again. Let's see, that was... what? Wow, a good 25 minutes without missing Ranma. Still trying to beat that 47 minute record, though..._

Akane sighed. She sighed a lot these days...

_I am so pathetic. Why do I do this to myself?_

_So you'll stay sane, stupid._

_Oh yeah. Thanks._

The mists began to thin, and Akane saw light up ahead. Could be a good sign. Not necessarily, though. She had learned that even evil beings liked to hang out in broad daylight sometimes. Still, seeing light was preferable to those times when she stumbled out of the mists and it was so dark she couldn't even tell where the mists ended and the domain began.

She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light as she left the mists behind. The sky was a perfect bright azure blue. A grassy field stretched in front of her, and beyond the field were forested foothills rising up into majestic jagged mountains. A light, warm breeze brushed the bottom of the valley, causing the long grass to sway in graceful, chaotic ripples. The wind caught at her hair, tied in a loose braid that fell midway down her back, and whipped a few silken strands free, playing them about her face. She brushed them behind her ear with one hand.

It was beautiful. She took it all in with wide, appreciative eyes. In some ways, it almost felt like the mortal realm. Except the grass was too green. The sky too blue. And, of course, there was no sun in the sky. Weird, and a bit unsettling at times, but it was a constant in the Kami Plane. No sun, and no moon. Stars, but no moon. Weird. Like everything else.

She could hear the gurgle of a nearby brook. Her mouth felt suddenly dry. Grimacing, she unhooked her water skin from her pack, unscrewed the lid and took a few careful swallows. Her thirst was immediately sated, and she breathed a sigh of relief. At least that meant that her thirst was brought on by real need rather than a water sprite summons. She _hated_ when that happened. One of the first things Masakazu taught her when the two of them left the Snow Woman's realm was that water was not to be trusted until tested.

She smiled. Too bad Ranma was never given that advice...

Akane began to wade through the tall grass towards the sound of the stream. If the water was, by some chance, regular water, she wanted to fill up her skin.

The water was crystal clear, but it wasn't glowing. That was always a good sign...

Reaching into the side of her pack, she pulled out a small leather pouch, one of the many things Masakazu had given her before he left so long ago. She took a small pinch of dusty gray powder and let it drop in the water.

Nothing. No reaction, no bright warning flare. It was safe. She plunged her water skin into the calm waters of the stream and filled it.

She looked at her reflection, distorted and moving with the ripples caused by her disruption of the water's surface. After a moment, the water smoothed, and she saw herself.

Unconsciously, she began cataloging the noticeable changes one by one. The face, still heart-shaped, but narrower, with sharper cheekbones. The thick, blue-black hair, almost as long as it was when Ryoga accidentally chopped it off, but less... girlish, and a bit untamed... The eyes, deep brown... yet flickering with unwanted knowledge...

Akane clenched her teeth, and pulled her water skin out of the stream with a yank, destroying the smooth reflection. She turned away, not wanting to see anymore, unable to stop the tears rising to the surface as she sealed her water skin with trembling fingers...

"Yo, Akane." An oh-so-familiar voice, coming up behind her.

Akane froze and blinked, the wetness in her eyes evaporating almost instantly.

_Oh no. Not now..._

Akane checked inside herself. The hollow feeling, the feeling of emptiness that appeared in her so long ago, was still there. Still a gaping hole in her soul.

Anger boiled up inside her. With careful practice, she pushed the irrationality that came with the rage back down into her gut. In a single, swift movement, she unsheathed her katana and whirled to face the intruder.

Ranma held up his hands and jumped back in surprise as the blade swung towards him. Akane gazed at him, taking in his red Chinese shirt, black pants, pigtail, and indignant expression with a sweep of her anger-filled eyes. She held her katana ready.

"Hey!" yelled Ranma. "What do you think you're doing, you psycho tomboy?! I'm here to rescue you! Jeeze, I finally make it to the Kami Plane and all you can do is attack me?"

"Shut up." Akane's voice was calm and cold in spite of the fury on her face. "I know you're not Ranma. Drop the disguise now, or I'll carve you up into pieces so small it'll take you a full ten cycles to pull yourself back together."

Ranma blinked at her, stunned. Then his expression fell and his shoulders sagged. "Aw. How'd you know?"

Akane snorted softly, not taking her eyes off him. "Oh please. You get a zero for originality. If I had a yen for every time someone's tried to pull that one on me--"

"Sheesh." Ranma held up his hands, cutting her off. "Okay, I get the point." Then he looked up and grinned at her precociously. "Get it? Point?" He gestured at her sword. "_I_ get the _point_?"

Akane stifled a groan. "You are really pushing your luck, buddy. Now drop the disguise, or else."

The pseudo-Ranma danced lightly out of range of her blade. "Well, you're no fun," he said, and stuck his tongue out at her.

Akane sighed. Yes, it was a day for sighing, it seemed. She leaned over, shouldered her pack and her water skin while keeping her blade unsheathed. Glancing contemptuously at the pseudo-Ranma, she began to walk back towards the mists.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Ranma's voice.

Akane clenched her teeth without looking back. "Where does it look like, stupid? I'm leaving. I'm looking for help, not harassment, and it's obvious that I'm not going to get the help I need here."

"Jeeze, can't you take a joke? Besides, I was only trying to cheer you up." The pseudo-Ranma vaulted over the top of her, flipping to land on his feet a few meters in front of her, blocking her way to the mists.

"Cheer me up? Yeah, right." Akane glared at him, and her blade flashed with blue ki. "Get out of my way."

"What do you see in this guy anyway?" The pseudo-Ranma looked down at himself. "I mean, look at him. He's just a kid. You're much too old for him."

Akane blinked.

Then, with an expression like stone, she turned, and began to walk around him.

The pseudo-Ranma kept pace with her, just out of striking range. "Just how old are you now, anyway? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? This guy's only seventeen. Talk about robbing the cradle..."

Akane bristled in spite of her self. "For your information, I'm only twenty-one," she said without looking at him.

"And a half."

"Shut up. If you already knew, why did you ask me?"

"I was curious as to what you would say."

"Wrong. You did it just to get your supernatural jollies over bugging some mere mortal."

"If you already knew, why did you ask me?"

She whirled on him. "Will you just leave me alone?! I'm leaving, okay?!"

The pseudo-Ranma frowned petulantly. "Aw, come on, don't go. You don't even know who I am yet."

"I don't know, and I don't care."

"If you knew, you would care."

"Why? It's not like you're all that impressive. Like I said, zero for originality."

The pseudo-Ranma's eyebrows shot up. "Not impressive? Me?"

Akane stepped up to the tendrils of the mists and glanced back at him. "You got it," she said, then turned to go.

The pseudo-Ranma stared at her retreating form a moment. "Hmm," he said gravely, as she began to disappear into the mists. "Well, I suppose the appropriate thing for me to do now is to fly into a rage and show you just how powerful I am by leveling this beautiful landscape to a wasteland and putting a wall of flame between you and those mists."

Akane stopped and looked back at him, her eyes narrowing. Was he serious? It was hard to tell with these self-absorbed demi-gods. Just in case, she began to focus her ki...

He grinned at her. "But then that would be the total cliché of the wrath of a slighted god. Zero for originality."

Akane closed her eyes. "I don't have time for this," she muttered, and started walking again.

"Wait! You didn't even ask me if I could break the blood spell!"

Akane kept walking. The mists thickened around her.

"I can, you know. Break the blood spell, that is."

Akane froze.

_Stupid,_ she thought. _He's just pulling your strings. He said _can,_ not _will.

"And if you come back, you can see Ranma for real."

Akane felt herself tremble slightly.

See... Ranma..?

The last time she had seen him... _really_ seen him... was over two and a half years ago through Yuki-onna's mirror as he wept over her severed hair... It was this tormented image of him that she carried around inside of her, as a badge of her own loneliness, her own grief... and her hope that Ranma still...

"Are..." Her voice cracked. "Are you serious?"

"Completely."

Akane fought to keep her heart from racing. Even if this guy didn't remove the blood spell... Just to see Ranma again, for real...

This was a bad idea. She was lonely and homesick enough as it was. Peeking in on the mortal world, seeing what she had lost... It would only rub salt in the open wound of her soul.

Still... when would she get another chance like this?

She struggled to keep her voice cool. "I'll come back," she said. "But first you have to drop the disguise."

"Deal!" The voice was no longer Ranma's baritone, but a rich resonant tenor.

Akane took a deep breath, turned, and walked back out of the edge of the mists.

He stood where she left him, looking nothing at all like Ranma. He was much taller, for one thing, by about half a meter. He was broad in the chest the way only a demi-god could be, but his face was surprisingly narrow. Then again, the narrowness could have been an illusion caused by the sharpness of the precise moustache and goatee that adorned his pale features. His black hair fell around his shoulders, and his large, piercing eyes were the color of obsidian. His age, of course, was indeterminable -- physically, he appeared to be anywhere from late 20's to mid 40's.

He was also wearing jeans, sneakers, and an over-sized dark olive-green T-shirt that read "North Shore Surfers" in black lettering across the chest.

Akane blinked. The clothing was so incongruous with the rest of him, not to mention their surroundings, that she couldn't help but stare. She hadn't seen clothing like that since...

His mouth twisted in a wry grin at her reaction and he glanced down at himself. "What?" he asked, his tone defensive, but his demeanor slightly impish. "Don't you like it? Or is it too 'mortal realm-ish?' I just figured something casual would set you more at ease."

Akane smothered the perplexed expression she could feel on her face. "Uhh... It's fine," she said. Great. Just what she needed. A show-off deity who not only could read her mind with the ease of flipping through an old paperback novel, but also thought he had a sense of humor.

The man arched an eyebrow at her. "Well. Aren't _you_ the jaded mortal. Actually, I've never been one to do the tunic, flowing robe and ornament thing. You know, the standard deity attire. It's so... archaic."

"Look," said Akane, trying to hold her temper in check. "You said you could show me Ranma in the mortal plane. Are you going to or not? Because if you're not, I'm going to leave."

"First things first," said the man. "Don't you even want to know who I am?"

Akane sighed. "Who are you?" she asked.

"Guess."

Akane fought down the urge to walk for the mists again. "I really have no idea," she said through clenched teeth.

"You know, that expression really isn't becoming on a face so lovely. Come on, just guess."

Akane rolled her eyes, but decided to humor him. "Hoso-no-Kami," she said off the top of her head, even though she knew it wasn't him since she'd already met the forenamed deity.

The man's playful expression crumbled, and he managed to look supremely offended. "Hoso-no Kami?! The God of Smallpox?! Do I _look_ like the God of Smallpox? Why, that whiny little weasel-faced runt has been completely useless, ever since that _mortal_ vaccine completely eradicated his handiwork. Disgraceful."

Akane shrugged, a veil of apathy covering her growing nervousness. The man/deity before her was entirely too childish for her liking. And childish gods were the most dangerous kind. Maybe she should have left after all... "You wanted me to guess," she said calmly. "I guessed."

The man frowned. "Fine, if you're going to be that way..." In spite of the words, his tone was surprisingly adult, his gaze serious. Akane blinked in surprise.

"You certainly are an ungrateful creature," he said mildly. "I've offered to help you, and yet you are so intent on not trusting me, on proving your mortal bravery in the face of the supernatural, you can't even be civil to your host."

Akane felt a brief flash of shame as she looked at him. But then she remembered how he had worn Ranma's face and form so brazenly... how he had mocked her... And the anger grew within her.

"Why should I be civil," she snapped, "when all you've done since I set foot in this place is toy with me?! I know you can read my mind! You knew when I came that I was hoping for help, but instead of helping me, you show up and try to convince me that you're..."

She trailed off as her throat closed off with the unexpected onset of tears. Damn. She did _not_ want to cry in front of this buffoon... She tried desperately to shove back the feelings of loneliness and despair that constantly skirted the edges of her awareness, always seeking an opportunity to overwhelm her...

A tear escaped her eye in spite of her efforts to hold it back, and trickled down her face. She brushed it away angrily and glared at the man with wet eyes. "You're all the same," she said, her voice catching. "You think that just because I'm mortal, because I'm _human_, you can have fun at my expense. Well, thanks, but no thanks. I'm not going to compromise my dignity just so you can feel powerful."

Akane turned away to walk back into the mists.

And came to a screeching halt as she found herself nose to nose with the obsidian-eyed man.

"You," he said, leaning into her face and grinning at her startled expression, "have _no_ sense of humor."

Akane didn't even blink. It didn't matter that he could be a deity who might have enough power to reduce her to a pile of ash with a twitch of his eyelid. He had pushed her to the limit. He was in her face, and he was in her way. Her martial arts instinct took over rational thought, and she instantly punched him with a ki-infused fist to the solar plexus, followed by a powerfully swift side kick to the jaw that sent the god flying into the edge of the mists. The man landed on his rear with an undignified "oof!"

Akane stared at the fallen man as rationality returned, her anger draining away under a wave of shock at what she had done -- and the thought of who she might have done it to. Her offending fist relaxed and flew to her open mouth as her eyes went incredibly wide.

"Ohhhh..." she said, swallowing and reaching out her hand as the man grunted and pushed himself to his feet. "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry, I didn't mean to hit you, it was just... you were there, and I was trying to leave, and you were making fun of me, and you startled me, and I'm just so used to defending myself when something like that happens, it was just, I didn't stop to think, I just... \

The man looked up at her with his piercing black eyes, and she trailed off, uncertain whether she should get ready for a fight, or just run for the mists.

The man held her gaze for a long moment. She looked back at him, tense and ready.

Then, his serious expression cracked... and he burst out laughing.

Akane stared at him, utterly flummoxed.

"You're the one, alright," the man said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "What a little spitfire you are. Ready to tear my head off one moment, and then begging my forgiveness the next." He grinned widely at her as he rubbed his jaw. "But I guess I'm glad you only used your fist and your foot rather than that live blade you're wielding. Although I could repair any damage you might have inflicted on me, I'm not too partial to dismemberment." He chuckled.

"I..." Akane hated being confused. A spark of her anger flared again. "I was _not_ begging for forgiveness! I was just worried if I hurt you, that's all."

The man ignored her protests and just grinned at her. "Well, at least I understand now why Masakazu was so fond of you. You _are_ entertaining, to say the least."

Akane blinked as she felt the world grind to a halt around her. "You... you know Masakazu?"

The man walked up to her and held out his hand. "Hi. I'm Susa-no-o. Welcome to my humble little corner of the Kami Plane, Tendo Akane."

Akane stared at his hand as her mind tried to deal with the information being thrown at her. She knew he was doing it on purpose to keep her off balance. Still...

"Susa..." The blood fell from her face as she found his name among her memories of legend, rumor and fairy tale, and she looked up to meet his amused gaze. "Not... The Impetuous Male?" The words felt strange and full of irony in her mouth.

The confirmed deity threw his hands wide and rolled his eyes. "Oh, _now_ you're impressed, after you've already knocked me on my butt." He sighed theatrically. "Yes, it is I, 'The Impetuous Male,' third and most maligned offspring of the creators, Izanagi and Izanami. My eldest sister is the sun, and my elder brother is the moon. Too bad they ran out of interesting celestial bodies by the time I was born. Maybe orbiting the mortal plane would have kept me out of trouble, neh?"

Akane was speechless.

Susa-no-o winked at her. "Now don't go all awe-struck on me. That's what I liked about you in the first place -- your refusal to be intimidated. And no doubt that's what Masakazu liked in you as well."

The name of her sensei shook Akane out of her stupor of amazement. "You... you really know Masakazu?"

"Oh yeah. We were old drinking buddies, him and me, back in the old days. In fact..." Susa-no-o frowned thoughtfully. "I think he was with me when I threw that party in Ama-terasu's rice field." He snorted. "Now _there_ is a woman with no sense of humor. Imagine, going off to sulk in a cave and depriving the mortal world of sunlight just because my friends and I trampled on a little bit of rice."

Akane looked at him with both astonishment and skepticism. "I heard that she went into the cave because you made a hole in her roof and threw a flayed horse into the room while she was weaving."

Susa-no-o shrugged noncommittally. "Rice, horse, whatever. It was just a harmless practical joke."

Akane's eyes were wide. "Not for the horse, it wasn't," she snapped.

The deity cocked an eyebrow at her. "It was still a stupid reason for the Sun Goddess to sulk in a cave for a few weeks. Besides, _I_ was banished to hell for a few centuries just because _big sis_ doesn't appreciate my humor."

Akane looked at him through lowered lids. "Why don't I feel sorry for you?"

Susa-no-o stuck his tongue out at her. "Ungrateful wench," he said.

Akane's eyes widened. There was a dangerous pause. The tall grasses around her ankles suddenly looked bluish from the light of her battle aura.

"_What_ did you call me?!"

Akane hefted her blazing sword. If this guy was the Susa-no-o she was familiar with from legend, he probably didn't have much fighting skill. After all, Susa-no-o was the one who had to get an Orochi totally passed-out drunk before he would approach it to cut its heads off...

"Hey, now, let's not get personal..." Susa-no-o was eyeing her sword with the slightest hint of worry in his black eyes.

"After you call me a _wench_?!"

"Jeeze, sorry!" Susa-no-o waved his hands and looked at her, his expression suddenly serious. "I'm sorry. Really."

Akane blinked, surprised, and her battle aura faded.

"You can put your sword away, Akane," he said. "I'm not going to do anything to you. I'm actually not such a bad guy. After all, I did kill that Orochi to rescue a girl, with absolutely no thought of personal gain. And just because that's my only _recorded_ good deed, doesn't mean I haven't done others."

Akane lowered her katana and looked at him piercingly. "Like you breaking the blood spell?" she asked, trying to keep the hope out of her voice.

Susa-no-o smiled. "Maybe. I can't break it directly, for the same reason Masakazu couldn't help you more. The Council would throw a fit if I did, and I really don't want to go back to Yomi Land." He grimaced. "I mean, this place isn't heaven, but at least its not hell, right? You'd think they'd give me a little leeway, considering I have seniority in the ranks of deity and all that, but no way." His grimace turned into a genuine scowl. "Doesn't help that mom and pops gave them instructions to keep me on a tight leash. I mean, come _on._ How many millennia have to pass before they get over a couple of practical jokes?"

Susa-no-o glanced over at Akane, who was staring at him wide-eyed. "That's why Masakazu and I got along so well," he said, grinning slightly. "That tengu liked to buck the system almost as much as I do."

Akane looked at the black-haired, obsidian-eyed god as her turbulent thoughts caught up with what the deity was saying. Most of his talk of inter-dimensional politics was going way over her head. But she did catch all the references to her tengu sensei. And some part of how this man kept referring to Masakazu was disturbing her greatly, but she couldn't put her finger on it...

"Do you... know where Masakazu is?" she asked tentatively. "I mean, you can look into the mortal plane, right? Do you know why he hasn't come back? Can you see if he was able to help Ranma, or if he's still working on it? He said it would be a while before he got back because of the time dilation and all, but it's been..."

Akane trailed off as Susa-no-o blinked at her, startled out of his reverie. Then his face filled with a strange, uncharacteristic expression that was almost... compassion..?

And Akane felt the old, old fear fill her heart, felt the ache of tears behind her eyes, in spite of the small, hopeful smile that was frozen on her face, frozen so hard it felt like it would crack, but she kept smiling, because if she did, maybe the words wouldn't come, maybe she wouldn't have to hear...

"Akane," said Susa-no-o. "Masakazu is dead. You already know that. He died over two years ago. Only about a week ago, in the mortal realm, taking into account the time dilation."

Akane's smile cracked.

She closed her eyes and saw darkness as her heart shattered.

But... he was right.

She had known.

She had felt it, the moment he died, over two years ago.

It was the worst feeling she'd ever felt. Worse even than when mother died. Because when mother died, she at least had father and Kasumi and Nabiki, and they were there to surround her with love, to share the burden of grief, of loss...

Here, she was alone.

And the thought of Masakazu, her only friend in the Kami Plane, dying because she sent him to save Ranma...

And the thought that he might have failed in saving Ranma from whatever it was that had filled her with such terror...

And the thought that she had lost _both_ of them, forever...

Since that moment, there had been nothing but hollowness. The terrifying feeling of danger had passed, at least. But Masakazu did not come back. And Ranma had not come for her. And she was growing older and older in the Kami Plane as time almost stood still in the mortal realm. And she was leaving them all behind, her friends, her family... Ranma... all without taking a single step. And her chances of returning to them faded with each passing second, with each new rejection of her constant plea... And she could not admit to herself that she had sent her sensei, her friend, on a fool's errand to die without purpose, without being able to help Ranma, for if she did, her already- frayed sanity would unravel, would fall to the cold ground in thin, dissolving strands of light, leaving her a mindless, unmoving shell without will or desire, having lost everything, everything...

...everything...

Akane trembled as all the feelings she had pushed from her for so long filled her with quiet despair. No, she mouthed silently. No no no nonononono....

"Akane..."

Akane shook her head, her eyes clenched shut, her hands flying up to cover her ears, fingers entwining and pulling at her hair. She didn't want to hear...

"It's not your fault Masakazu died, Akane. And he didn't die in vain. He died with honor, having fought well against a powerful enemy. Listen to me, Akane..."

Akane wasn't listening. She just wanted to die, to reach inside her chest and tear out the unbearable ache inside as the spark of hope that had kept her going for over two years was cruelly extinguished...

_crack_

Pain lanced through the side of Akane's face, her head jerked back, and her eyes flew open to see the azure sky tilt strangely just before she landed on her back on the ground, her fall cushioned by the tall grass.

"Stupid wench. Why do I even bother?"

Akane reached up with the tips of her fingers and felt her throbbing cheek where Susa-no-o's hand connected with his slap. A sharp burst of anger jolted through her. She looked up at the sneering face of the deity. "You--!"

"Well, whaddya know, it worked." Susa-no-o's eyes narrowed. "Look, little girl, I want your help, and, at the moment, I would much rather have you ready to rip my head off than have you weeping and wailing over something that's over and done with, okay? The fact that I was just able to penetrate your defenses and slap you off your feet is an insult to the training Masakazu gave you. So pull yourself together."

Akane blinked up at him, the surprising force of his words and the sharp, bitter taste of her own anger in her mouth penetrating the thick fog of despair that had engulfed her.

"Now, _listen_ to me, Akane." The deity gave her a hard look as she pushed herself up to her feet. "Are you listening?"

Akane nodded, glaring at him with wet eyes.

"Good, 'cause I don't want to have to repeat myself. Masakazu saved Ranma, but only for the moment. It will be up to you to finish what he began."

Akane blinked in astonishment. "Wh-what are you talking about?" Masakazu... saved Ranma? But she had to finish it?

Susa-no-o's hard look dissolved with alarming speed to a carefree smirk. He leaned back and stuck his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans. "Okay, my secrets out. It's true. I've been waiting for you."

"W-waiting for me?" There was an echo. She was repeating him. Too many things, too fast. In spite of everything she had been through the past few years, Akane was having a hard time absorbing the emotional twists and turns of the past few minutes. Part of her was still aching with grief, while another part of her was anxious to run after the tiny carrots of hope the deity was dangling in front of her. While yet another part did indeed want to rip his head off.

Susa-no-o smirked, probably reading her thoughts. "That's right," he said. "Masakazu was my friend too, and, ancient as he was, he deserved to live a lot longer." He leaned over and smiled sweetly at Akane. "You see, I want to stick it to the demon who killed him, the one who still holds your fiance in thrall, but I can't do it without your help."

"Holds my..." She was repeating him again. She couldn't help it. Her mind was trying desperately to absorb the information the deity was so casually flinging out, even as a part of her cringed away, not wanting to know...

Susa-no-o rolled his eyes. "Come here," he said, turning and walking towards the stream. "It'll be easier to just show you."

Akane followed obediently, too stunned to do anything else.

They reached the stream, a wide flowing area where the water was still and calm, not too far from where she'd filled her water skin. Susa-no-o nodded. "Yeah, this'll do." He glanced at Akane who came to stand next to him, looking down into the clear water. "I told you I'd show you Ranma. But I'm going to warn you right now. Things have not gone well for him, and it's not a pretty sight. So prepare yourself. Don't go catatonic on me again, okay?"

Akane looked up at him, unable to hide the fear in her eyes. "Wait!" She wasn't ready, she didn't want to see... "Ranma... He's alive, isn't he?"

Susa-no-o raised an eyebrow at her. "In a manner of speaking."

Akane felt herself wither inside at his cryptic response.

The deity folded his arms over the "North Shore Surfers" lettering across his chest. "Are you ready? I'm not going to show you until you're ready. And you have to promise not to freak out or anything, but to remain calm so we can discuss this afterwards in a rational manner."

Akane averted her gaze from him and looked down at the water. It had to be bad... He wasn't telling her... Would she be able to handle it? Looking in on the mortal world, seeing a life left behind over four and a half years ago? Seeing her friends and family, virtually frozen in time...

Seeing Ranma suffer...

Akane closed her eyes and forcibly steadied herself, drawing on the training given her by her tengu sensei to focus her mind, her soul. She _would_ handle it. She had faced and defeated demons before. She could face the ones inside herself. She had to. If she didn't... what was there to live for? It was this, or spend the rest of her life hiding from her own pain, letting it eat at her like a cancer until she was nothing...

She opened her eyes. "I'm ready," she said.

Susa-no-o nodded soberly. "Then look," he said, and passed his hands over the water's surface.

Akane looked.

The water turned smooth as glass and shone with a soft light as images began to form on its surface...

"The past first, I think," said Susa-no-o quietly. "Then the present will make more sense."

And Akane saw Ranma talking with her family in the dining room, with Ukyo, Ryoga and Doctor Tofu. Her heart leaped within her at the sight, and tears sprang to her eyes. There they were, all of her loved ones. Ranma; strong, confident, determined as he announced that he was leaving for China in the morning to break the blood spell... He looked just like she remembered.

So young...

_Oh Ranma..._

Akane reached deep within herself for her center of calm. She wouldn't cry. She would watch.

Ranma, in his room, quickly packing for the trip, his face set with determination. He looks up suddenly as if he senses something. Fear flickers across his face...

The light bulb explodes, plunging him into darkness, showering him with tiny fragments of glass, but he doesn't notice as he presses himself into the corner...

And the Snow Woman appears...

Akane choked back a gasp. _Just watch._

She watches. And though the tears run unnoticed down her face as she sees and hears the Snow Woman, her former friend, torment Ranma with lies and then cast her cold spell on him, she remains silent and still.

And watches as the Shadowcat comes to steal away Ranma's humanity...

The images swirl and speed up, only to slow down a moment later...

And Masakazu is there, in a mountain glade, coaxing a wild-eyed Ranma towards him so that he can remove the Snow Woman's cold spell. But the Shadowcat returns, and a battle, a battle over Ranma's soul, ensues...

Masakazu stuns Ranma with a small, yet powerful ki-blast... and then freezes, staring at Ranma, his black, inhuman eyes wide with amazement and wonder...

Akane felt her heart contract with fatalistic fear. _What is he doing?! Can't he sense the demon coming up behind him?!_

Akane wanted to scream, to shout at him, to warn him... but it was the past and she couldn't do anything. Except watch silently...

Masakazu blinks, then turns suddenly, fast, but not fast enough to avoid the flash of the Shadowcat's huge paw that pins him to the ground...

"Stop..." whispered Akane hoarsely, the tears running freely down her face. "I understand already, but please... I don't want to see this..."

Susa-no-o glanced sideways at her, his hands still stretched out. Then the image swirled and sped up...

Akane crumpled inside, whether with relief or sadness, she couldn't tell...

"Eight mortal days have passed since then," said Susa-no-o quietly. "This is the now, the present of the mortal realm."

Ranma, in female form, curled up sleeping on the floor of Akane's bedroom. The dirt and blood has been long since cleaned from his face and arms, and his red hair has been combed and tied into his usual braided pigtail. Her father, Nabiki, Ukyo and Doctor Tofu are gathered around him. They look drained and worried...

"I'm sorry..." Doctor Tofu's voice floats up ethereally from the surface of the water. "But I've tried everything I know. And if even Kintaro-sensei can't find a way around this cold spell..." He trails off helplessly.

The look on Nabiki's and Ukyo's faces mirrors Akane's own expression.

"You can be sure we'll keep trying, though..." Doctor Tofu continues.

Ranma blinks awake abruptly. He stands on all fours, looks up and around the room, his eyes wide and alert, his feline gaze turning...

...until it appears that he's looking right at them...

He stops and stares, his wild blue eyes peering up at them from the water's surface, from the two-dimensional image of her room.

He meows anxiously. Over and over again.

Susa-no-o's eyes widened. Akane's hands were fists, up to her mouth, pressing back the sobs that wanted to burst out. "C-can he see us?" she choked.

"Impossible." The deity's eyes narrowed. "Still... he obviously senses something. It could be his connection to the Kami Plane through the Shadowcat, though..." He trailed off, focusing as the image began to waver slightly.

Ukyo goes over to Ranma, tries to sooth him as he continues to mew anxiously at nothing. But he ignores her. Just stares up blindly out of the water, crying, crying... Tears begin to streak down Ukyo's face...

"Dammit, Ranchan..." she whispers, a sound between grief and anger. "She's not coming back. Why can't you accept that? Why can't you come back to me?" She begins to sob quietly as Soun, Nabiki and Doctor Tofu look on wearily, sadly. "Please... come back to me..."

But Ranma's eyes continue to gaze beyond what he can see...

"Enough." Akane's voice was barely audible. "I've seen enough."

Susa-no-o lowered his hands. The image faded from the water as it began to flow quietly once again.

"If I were there..." she said, unable to tear her eyes away from the water. "I could always bring him out of it... the Nekoken..."

Susa-no-o turned to her. "Which is precisely why the Shadowcat took advantage of this opportunity. Because you're _not_ there. Akane..."

Akane looked up at him. Her face was wet, her brown eyes glistened with tears, but her expression was remarkably calm.

Susa-no-o smiled grimly at her. "The Shadowcat is _here,_ Akane. In the Kami Plane. Masakazu was able to send him back before he died. But the link between Ranma and the demon is still very much alive."

Akane understood immediately.

"Where?" she asked.

"In the Gaki domain. The realm of evil gods. I can show you how to get there. I'd go myself, but if I take a single step out of my own domain, the Council jumps on my back faster than you can blink."

"Show me." Akane lifted her blade, which was pulsing with bright blue ki.

Susa-no-o's grim smile widened. "Atta girl, Akane.

"I knew I could count on you."

--------------------

End of Part Fourteen


	16. Into the Demon's Lair

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 15: Into the Demon's Lair

by Krista Perry

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A warm wind blew gently across the tall grasses of the valley, joining in with the quiet music of the calm stream nearby. A few long wisps of silken dark hairs escaped Akane's thick braid and brushed against her tear-streaked face. She gazed steadily at the obsidian-eyed deity who looked down at her in wry approval. Though her heart ached from the pain of looking into the mortal realm, seeing what she had lost... seeing the horrible state Ranma was in... her brown eyes were filled with grave determination.

"Where is the Gaki domain?" she asked, her voice low and trembling, her knuckles white around the hilt of her katana. "I'm going to find that Shadowcat demon and hack it into bits so small, it will never be able to pull itself together to hurt Ranma, or anyone else ever again."

Susa-no-o's grim smile quirked at the edges. "That's the spirit, Akane. As I said, I'll show you how to get there. But first, there are a few things we need to do to prepare."

Akane's eyes sparked, burning away the last of the hopelessness that had smothered her just moments before. "I'm ready now," she said, her voice raising in anger. "I've been killing demons for over four years now, I think I can handle a stupid cat demon!"

The deity's eyes narrowed. "Don't be so cocky, little girl," Susa-no-o said coldly. "Masakazu was a hundred times the martial artist you are, and the Shadowcat killed him. The Shadowcat is not _a_ cat demon, it is _the_ Cat Demon. It is the sole Master of the Nekoken, one of, if not the most powerful of all martial arts techniques."

Akane paled as she realized... _He... he's right. How am I supposed to defeat the demon that killed the best martial artist I know?_

"And not only will you be taking on the Shadowcat," continued Susa-no-o seriously, "but you'll be walking right into the realm of evil gods. That place is swarming with demons and Gaki, more than you've ever come across in all your travels combined, and you'll be on _their_ turf. I can tell you right now that without my help, you won't last ten seconds." Susa-no-o leaned over to look Akane in the eye. "What do you think will happen if the Soul Gaki catches sight of you, for instance, hm? Where will you be then?"

Akane blinked, a chill running through her. "I... The... Soul Gaki?"

"I'll tell you where you'll be," Susa-no-o said, throwing up his arms in exasperation as if she hadn't spoken. "You'll be irretrievably _dead_! He'll suck the soul right out of your body without even touching you, and then you'll be trapped in a gestalt of other unfortunate human souls that the Soul Gaki has devoured in that amorphous blob that passes for his body, and you'll suffer indescribable torment for his pleasure for the _rest of eternity_." The deity rocked back on the heels of his tennis shoes with his thumbs stuck in his front jeans pockets and leered at her. "How does _that_ sound, little Miss I-can-handle- anything?"

Akane felt tears of anger and frustration building up behind her eyes. She had to help Ranma, to free his mind and soul from the Shadowcat's influence. But how was she supposed to defeat the demon that had killed her tengu sensei?

And the Gaki domain... If what Susa-no-o said was true, she didn't stand a chance. But now... she had to go there willingly?

"If this place is so terrible," she said, glaring at the god, "then how am I supposed to walk in there and find the Shadowcat in the first place? And if you're so sure the Shadowcat can defeat me, why should I even try?"

Susa-no-o raised an eyebrow at her. "Does that mean you're giving up?" he asked quietly. "You're just going to let the Shadowcat keep Ranma?"

Akane closed her eyes and clenched her fists as an image flickered through her mind of Ranma, trapped in the Nekoken, mewing pitifully, crying out for her dimensions away... "No," she whispered hoarsely. "Of course not."

Susa-no-o smirked infuriatingly. "I'm glad you feel that way. Besides, you weren't listening, Akane. I never said you weren't good enough to beat the Shadowcat. I just said you couldn't do it without my help."

Akane opened her eyes in surprise, then frowned. "But you just told me that you can't leave your realm. You said that the Council would 'jump on your back,' as you put it, if you tried to leave."

The deity shrugged. "That's right."

She sighed. "So how, exactly, are you going to help me?"

"Jeeze, you're impatient. I was just getting to that." Susa-no-o waved his hand with a flick of his wrist like a magician, and a small ivory hair comb appeared between his fingers. "Here," he said, handing it to Akane. "Put this in your hair."

Akane took it hesitantly and examined it. It was simple in its design, the teeth about two inches long, the smooth, rounded spine devoid of carvings or symbols of any kind. "What is this?" she asked.

"It's a hair comb. Duh."

"You know what I mean," Akane snapped irritably. "What's it for? How is this supposed to help me survive the Gaki domain and defeat the Shadowcat?"

Susa-no-o sighed and rolled his eyes. "Just... put it in your hair, will you? It's not going to hurt you."

Akane eyed him balefully for a moment, then reached behind her head and plunged the teeth of the comb into the thick twist of her French braid at the crown of her head.

Nothing happened.

Susa-no-o grinned at her. "Perfect," he said. "I knew it would work."

Akane grit her teeth. "If this is your stupid idea of a joke..." She left the threat hanging, tightening her grip on the hilt of her unsheathed katana.

**Akane, you wound me to the very soul.**

The deity's voice echoed in her head, and she jerked, startled.

"What--!"

Susa-no-o raised a finger to his lips in a silencing gesture. **Don't say it out loud,** his mental voice snapped at her. **Think the words at me. This is how we are going to communicate after you leave my domain.**

Akane stared at him with wide eyes. "But... but how--"

**_Think_ the words, girl!** The deity's obsidian eyes flashed. **Are you an idiot that you cannot do something so simple?!**

Akane flushed in fury and opened her mouth to retaliate with a scathing reply. But then she paused, and closed her mouth carefully. **I am _not_ an idiot,** she responded hotly.

Susa-no-o smirked. **Glad to hear it. Or not hear it, in this instance. Anyway, this comb not only allows us to communicate beyond my domain, but it has also rendered you invisible.**

Akane looked down at herself to see... herself. "Wha--" She clenched her teeth around her verbal slip. **What are you talking about? I'm not invisible.**

**Well, of course you can see yourself.** The god sneered. **Fighting demons is going to be hard enough without you not even being able to see your own body. And before you blather on about how Masakazu trained you to fight blind, that's all well and good, but it's still one more handicap that you can do without.**

**But... you can see me, right?** asked Akane as he looked right into her face.

Susa-no-o raised an eyebrow. **Well of course. It's my comb, after all.**

Akane sighed. **Great. So I can see me, and you can see me, and I'm supposed to believe it when you tell me I'm invisible.**

He winked at her. **You got it. Trust me, when you go to the Gaki realm, they won't even know you're there.**

Akane's eyes widened. "You--" She closed her mouth and grit her teeth around the instinctive urge to talk verbally. **You want me to just walk into the Gaki realm, defeat the Shadowcat, and walk out... _right under their noses_?**

Susa-no-o grinned, pleased. **Yup.**

It was insane. It would get her killed. Susa-no-o was insane. The whole _idea_ was insane.

And so, apparently, was she.

She smiled grimly. **Let's do it, then.**

--------------------

She could feel the difference immediately. The Mists of Kami were, if such a thing was possible, even more black and cold than before.

**Just keep going straight. You'll get there soon enough.** Susa-no-o's voice echoed in her mind.

Akane shivered. It was so unsettling, having a conversation inside her head. Let's see, hearing voices... Violent tendencies... Slices up the occasional demon with glowing sword... Yes, doctor, I recommend the highest dosage of medication and a nice padded cell.

**I always _do_ go straight,** she replied, grimacing at her train of thought. **And I always end up someplace different. How are you going to control where I end up this time?**

**Trust me. The mists are very receptive to a specific intended destination. Until now, you've never had a specific intended destination, so the mists have just deposited you at random.**

**How nice. Wish I'd known that before.** Damn, it was so cold. And the mists were so thick and black... If she closed her eyes, she would see more than she could see now. At least the insides of her eyelids were _something_.

**Almost there.** Susa-no-o's voice was quiet and serious in her mind. **Can you feel it?**

Akane nodded silently, her throat constricting in instinctive fear as she felt the pressing weight of an immense evil growing steadily in front of her.

Then she realized that Susa-no-o couldn't see her. **Yes,** she answered. **I can feel it.**

Susa-no-o chuckled softly. **I saw you nod, dear. I am looking through your eyes, after all.**

Akane paused in alarm. **You are? Since when?**

**Since you put the comb in your hair, stupid. How else am I going to be able to see what's going on to give you appropriate instruction?**

Akane digested this new piece of information silently. She felt like she should get angry for one more invasion of her privacy, but the intensely evil vibes she was getting from the mists in front of her quelled any desire to argue with the voice inside her head.

She walked through the mists in silence, her apprehension building with each step, the feeling of evil thickening around her until it became hard to breathe.

**This was a stupid idea,** she said, fighting back the rising panic in her chest. **What on earth was I thinking, listening to you?**

**You were thinking of Ranma. Of Masakazu.**

Akane fell silent and kept walking, forcing herself to breath deeply.

The mists thinned.

She slowed her walk, hesitant, afraid to come out into the open and see what was making her deepest instincts scream at her to flee in terror...

**You're sure that I'm invisible? That they won't be able to sense me at all? Because I sure can feel them...**

**Akane, trust me. I'm Susa-no-o, after all, remember? Direct offspring of the creators? I'm not without power, you know.**

Akane swallowed hard, unsheathing her katana with one hand, and brushing a long dark strand of hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear nervously. **Okay. Here goes nothing...**

She stepped out of the mists. And felt the blood fall from her face as her eyes widened in horror.

**Steady, Akane. Don't faint on me, now.**

Akane blinked and focused, steadying herself even as she fought the desire to turn and run back into the mists. **So... so many...**

A nightmarish, barren wasteland stretched in front of her. Dim, gray light filtered through a dark musky fog that filled the sky. In places, the fog seemed to bleed down to the earth in smoky tendrils as if it were a living thing, a floating wraith reaching downward with grasping, intangible fingers. Twisted rock formations jutted from the stony ground like the strewn, rotting bones of a malformed giant.

Demons were everywhere.

Demons of all shapes and sizes, thousands of them, giggling maniacally through slavering, jagged teeth, sunken eyes flickering like candle-flames, flailing about their misshapen limbs, raking their claws against the stone ground...

Oh no. **I... I don't think I can do this...**

**Sure you can. Remember, they can't see you. Besides, most of the demons like to hang out by the border. Once you get past them, it's smooth sailing.**

**Easy for you to say. You're not even here.**

**Come on, Akane. The Shadowcat isn't going to be with this lot. It's a much more private demon, it likes to keep itself aloof from the general riff-raff. So you've got to walk past these border-scrapers to reach the less-populated areas of the domain.**

Akane's eyes darted around frantically, as if trying to find a place to look that wasn't filled with hoards of creeping, screeching, giggling demons, but they were all around her, the sight of them filling her vision, the feeling of evil malevolence crushing her chest... Her breath came in little gasps as the flesh of her arms and back crawled in terror and revulsion...

**Focus, Akane!** Susa-no-o's voice in her head seemed to come from a great distance, as though it were muffled by layers of cotton. **Focus inward, find your center! Don't let it overwhelm you. You are strong enough to withstand this, Akane.**

Akane tried to obey, trying to focus inward and block out the horrible sights, sounds, feelings... But her concentration slipped from her mind like water through a sieve under the onslaught of chaotic evil surrounding her...

**Remember, Akane.** There was a tinge of desperation in Susa-no-o's mental voice. **You're doing this for Ranma. Do you think a few thousand demons would stop _him_? No way. If your situation was reversed, he'd walk out there in a second.**

The thought of Ranma cleared Akane's mind a little, calmed her. His face in her mind gave her an anchor against the hostile inner turbulence that was sweeping her away, and she forced her chest to expand against the smothering tightness, taking a deep breath. **That,** she replied shakily, **is because he's a stupid, macho jerk who throws himself into danger without a thought of caution or his own safety. But I get your point.**

**Heh, you can't fool me, Akane.** Susa-no-o was obviously relieved at her response. **You love that stupid macho jerk.**

Akane closed her eyes and tried to ignore the screeching, the insane giggling that filled her ears and penetrated her to the core. **Be quiet, will you? I'm trying to focus.**

She couldn't stay here much longer. Any semblance of control would seep away from her if she did. She had to just... go through them. And pray that the demons really wouldn't know she was there...

A rock outcropping, jutting above the writhing horde. If she could leap to it...

Akane jumped, vaulting over a swarm of demons to land on the tip of the twisted pillar of rock. From her new vantage point, she had a whole new perspective on the hideousness that surrounded her. Yet she also saw...

**Look, there's the edge of the crowd. If you can leap to that other outcropping over there, I think you can jump from rock to rock and make your way across this mess without actually walking through all these demons. Just... don't lose your footing. They may not be able to see you, but I can't stop them from feeling you if you should fall on them.**

Akane clenched her teeth. **Thanks for the bulletin. Anything else you want to tell me to disrupt my concentration?**

**Nope, that's it. Carry on.**

Akane shifted her katana to her left hand and wiped her sweaty palm on her tunic, shifted it back, and tightened her grip on the hilt.

Focus. Jump. Land. Yes. Don't mind that the smallest slip will send you plummeting into a veritable sea of burning, bristling skin and venom-oozing claws and teeth. Just leap casually over to that twisted pillar of rock... to another... There's the edge of the sea, right over there... It's not so bad from up here, you can actually see where all these demons end. Then you just walk across that nightmarish plane beyond this mass and track down the Shadowcat... Don't think about how, when you're through, you have to come back through this. No, just focus on Ranma. He's depending on you, even if he doesn't consciously know it...

Akane leaped again...

...and in mid leap, she saw something out of the corner of her eye. A sudden feeling of nausea flooded her stomach, bile rising in her throat as fresh waves of inexplicable horror rippled across her skin. She landed on an outcropping of stone, gasping as she nearly slipped...

Frantically she regained her footing, sending loose gravel falling into the writhing masses below. Suppressing a shudder, she lowered herself to one knee on the uneven, narrow surface of the craggy rock formation to steady herself, gasping, forcing air into her compressed lungs...

**What's wrong, Akane? You're doing fine, keep going. Just don't think about it.**

**No...** Akane raised her left hand and wiped cold sweat off her cheek, turning her head slowly in the direction of... **There's something...**

And she saw it.

Off to her right. Moving slowly through the mass of writhing demons.

A tall, amorphous Nothingness; complete, utter Darkness which even the dismal light of the domain could not penetrate. It looked almost like a tear in reality... if a tear in reality moved like a sentient being. If a tear in reality had gleaming moist blood red eyes hovering in the blackness. If it had jagged sharp teeth stained reddish-brown, clenched tightly in a huge, hideous grin, floating in the void of its being...

The demons fell away before it, shrieking, clearing an impromptu pathway for its passage... It was moving at an angle in her direction...

...and as it grew closer, Akane heard the screams.

Horrible, despairing screams of a multitude in agony.

The screams were coming from inside the creature...

**Run, Akane.**

Akane blinked, only then realizing that she was frozen in terror...

The creature paused in its forward movement. Slowly, its moist red eyes slid in Akane's direction... until it seemed to be staring straight at her. It's jagged bloody grin widened.

**Run!** Susa-no-o's voice rang in her head, spurring her into mobility.

Without another thought, Akane turned and fled, leaping frantically over the demon masses, from one distorted rock formation to another, the adrenaline coursing through her veins focusing her mind and concentration to a bright, sharp point. She didn't need to look behind her to know that the creature was following slowly, its amorphous form sifting silently after her...

**What is it?!** she asked, her mental voice high in panic as she leaped with perfect balance from one jutting outcrop to the next. She was almost there...

**The Soul Gaki. Just our luck he would be so close to the border.**

The Soul Gaki...

**I thought you said he wouldn't be able to see me!**

**He can't see you. But the Soul Gaki is not your average demon. He's a high-ranking evil god. He can't see you, but he can sense you right enough, apparently.**

**Apparently!** Akane snarled. **Great! What do I do now?!**

**Keep running. And hope that you lose him.**

Akane cursed silently under her breath. After jumping to several other outcroppings in a random, zigzag pattern, she landed on another pillar of stone and risked a glance behind her.

The Soul Gaki was looking right at her, grinning, moving towards her with slow malevolent purpose. She could hear the screams...

**This is not good,** said Susa-no-o.

**You're telling me?!**

**I hate to tell you this, Akane, but you're going to have to jump down.**

**... What?** Akane looked down at the ground, at the demons that surrounded her, engaged in various activities of depravity and sadism... She swallowed and focused inward, thinking of Ranma once again, trying to block the sight from her eyes, trying not to imagine what might happen if...

**I... can't do that,** she said.

**Listen, Akane!** Susa-no-o's voice snapped. **The Soul Gaki doesn't have to touch you to rip out your soul. It just has to get close enough, and right now it's coming right for you because your human soul is standing out like a beacon on top of this rock. If you jump down and mingle with the demons, it may mask your presence and allow you to get away, so do it now!**

**But--**

**Now, dammit! It's coming! Do it NOW!**

Akane jumped.

She landed silently on the ground in the middle of the shifting mass of demons, her senses reeling, her chest heaving against the panic...

...and stumbled face first into demon flesh.

She staggered back, gagging, her face burning from the touch of black ki as the demon jerked and turned its flaming yellow eyes in her direction. Its eyes narrowed in confusion, seeing nothing, and it extended a grotesque arm towards her, the six-inch black claws at the ends of its finger-like appendages clacking together, reaching unknowingly for her abdomen...

A blinding flash of pulsing blue steel, and the offending limb lay severed on the ground. Droplets of sickly green ichor splattered against Akane's face and arms from the bleeding stump of the demon's arm. Her eyes bulged, staring between her katana and the clawed arm as if unable to believe what she had just done, knowing what the consequences would be...

The demon shrieked in agony and fury. At the piercing sound, the burning eyes of a hundred surrounding demons turned in her direction.

**Oh yeah. Way to go,** said Susa-no-o. **Might as well just yank the comb out of your hair and let the entire population of the Gaki domain get a good look at you.**

**Shut up!**

The Soul Gaki sifted closer, grinning its bloody grin in anticipation. She could feel its malevolent intelligence, she could hear the screams again...

The demons giggled insanely and began to converge on the wounded demon like vultures descending on a rotting carcass.

Akane ran.

Or tried to. There were so many of them, all moving towards her, towards the wounded demon. And the Soul Gaki was coming closer, she could _feel_ it, hear the screams of all those souls... So she ducked, leaped, dodged and contorted her body, focusing intently, using every scrap of swiftness and agility she had in her, moving through the legion of demons as fast as she could, moving away...

...move, move, Oh please don't let them _touch_ you... weave in and out... ignore the stench and the heat of their putrid bodies and their slavering gaping mouths and burning eyes all around you because, after all, they can't see you, and there are so many of them that when you accidentally brush against them in your zigzag flight they don't even notice, even though _you_ notice because the touch of their hoary skin burns with dark ki and sends your flesh crawling up your back, and you clench your teeth against the terrified sobs that want to burst out but can't because then they would hear you...

**...Akane... Akane..!**

Akane blinked dazedly as her pinpoint concentration relaxed enough to register Susa-no-o's voice in her mind.

**What?** she asked stupidly, still running, still trying to get away...

Susa-no-o sighed. **I think you lost him. You've been running non-stop for over fifteen minutes.**

Akane's eyes began to water uncontrollably. **I... I'm gonna throw up.**

**No you're not. You did fine. Look around, do you see the Soul Gaki anywhere?**

Akane slowed in her headlong flight, blinking away the wetness from her tearing eyes, and looked. The Soul Gaki's towering dark form, it's jagged bloody grin, was nowhere to be seen above the demon masses.

**See? What did I tell you? I knew you could do it. Now let's lose these demons, shall we? I'm tired of looking at them. Go to your left. The edge of the crowd is in that direction, less than fifty meters away.**

The edge... Akane stopped running, wiping the rivulets of warm sweat mingled with splattered ichor from her brow with one hand, and looked to the left. She only saw more demons. **Are... are you sure?**

**I was paying attention to where you were going while you were zoned out.**

Akane stifled the urge to laugh, fearing that it would sound hysterical and blend in with the insanity around her. **Right,** she responded, then obeyed gratefully, swallowing down the heartbeat that continued to pulse in her throat.

--------------------

The flat wasteland with its jutting rock formations and demon multitudes had given way to desolate, craggy foothills, pocked with gaping black caves and crevices which were occasionally lit with the glowing eyes of some shadowed, silent creature.

Akane ignored them, since their gaze swept right over her, and kept walking, making sure that her footfalls were soundless against the stone ground. The echoing quiet of the canyon and the stagnant, heavy air under a dark bleeding gray sky was unnerving, but at least it was better than the insane noise she had escaped hours before.

**Feeling better yet?**

Akane scowled fiercely as Susa-no-o's voice broke into the stubborn mental silence she had maintained since breaking free of the demon hoards.

**Why didn't you tell me what to expect?** she said at last.

**Would it have made any difference? You had to go through that mess either way. It was just bad luck that the Soul Gaki happened to be in the vicinity.**

Akane was silent. Inside, she was still shaking.

**So, tell me about him.**

Akane froze as a black, hairy spider, the size of a small dog, emerged from a rocky crevice off to her right and skittered across her path less than eight centimeters from her foot, disappearing into the craggy recesses of the foothills on the other side. She swallowed and kept walking. **Who?**

**Oh, come on. Who else? Lover boy. Ranma. The guy you've been pining after for over four years.**

Akane scowled. **Why ask me? You seem to already know everything about the both of us. If you're so curious, why don't you just pick through my memories like you've been doing and find out for yourself?**

**'Cause I'd rather hear it from you. I asked you before, and I'll ask you again: What do you see in this guy? Most of your memories of him are of you pounding him for being an insensitive jerk. And yet you've spent the past four years searching for a cure to the blood spell so you can return to him. And here you are, right now, braving the perils of the Gaki realm to face the Shadowcat, all for his sake. So what gives?**

Akane was silent. The thought of Ranma filled her heart with the familiar, dull ache and brought the threat of tears burning behind her eyes. She didn't want to share her innermost feelings with the arrogant, irreverent deity.

**Come on, Akane, tell me. If you don't tell me, I'll start reciting some of my haiku, and then you'll _really_ be sorry. Just ask my wife. She takes off whenever I get the urge to sit down with my ink and paper.**

Akane blinked in surprise. **You're... married?**

**Of course I am!** Susa-no-o sounded shocked. **I thought _everyone_ knew that. What rock have you been hiding under?**

Akane ignored the taunt. **Who is she?** she asked, genuinely curious.

**Hmph. You remember the story of how I rescued the girl from the Orochi, don't you? Well, I married her and we started our own little family.**

**You've got _kids_?**

**You don't have to sound so surprised, Akane.** Susa-no-o sounded slightly rankled. **Besides, weren't we supposed to be talking about Ranma?**

Akane's enthusiasm for their light banter vanished. **You wanted to talk about him, not me.**

**Why not?**

Akane sighed heavily. **Look, will you just leave me alone? I don't really feel like having this conversation right now.**

**If you don't want to hear me talk, take the comb out of your hair.**

**Ha ha, very funny.**

Susa-no-o was silent a moment.

**Seriously, Akane.** The soberness of his mental tone felt sincere, surprising her. **You're about to face one dangerous demon. Granted, the comb gives you the advantage, since the Shadowcat won't be able to actually see you, but the Shadowcat is incredibly powerful and intelligent. It's not going to be easy. So tell me. Is Ranma worth it?**

**I'm here, and you have to ask that?**

**Yes.**

Akane paused thoughtfully, sadly, for a long moment. She knew it was worth it. The feelings were inside her, but she had never said them out loud, never vocalized the quiet inner discoveries of the past four and a half years, never shared them with another person...

But wasn't that part of the problem to begin with? That she had never shared her true feelings? If she had, would she even be here? Could she have avoided all the pain, not just from her time in the Kami Plane, but... before the blood spell?

Perhaps it was time to stop hiding from the truth she carried inside her...

**Before the blood spell,** she said softly, finally, **everything was different. Ranma and I never seemed to get along. We were always saying and doing hurtful things to each other. And yet there were some moments when he... when the barrier of pride between us would fall, if only for a moment, and I could see it in his eyes... see the same feelings I felt for him reflected back at me... and it was so wonderful, and yet so painful, because then something would happen and the barrier would come between us again...**

**Why the barrier?** Susa-no-o's voice was quietly unassuming. **What do you think caused it? Was it his fault? Because he was a 'stupid macho jerk?'**

Tears. She expected them; she didn't even bother trying to hold them back. She wiped at them with the back of her dirtied hand. **I've thought about it a lot the past four years, and I think I know... It was all my fault.**

**All your fault. Don't you think that's a bit harsh? It seems to me that Ranma did his share of contributing to the problem.**

Akane nodded. **Well, yes. He did. But... I've thought about it, and that was later. I mean at the very beginning, when we first met... Ranma just wanted to be accepted... and I turned on him. If I had only controlled my temper, if I had only controlled my big mouth... things might have been different...**

Memories came flooding back. Memories that, before the blood spell, she would have pushed away as being uncomfortable, but that were now precious treasures, her only reminders of her lost life. **You see, when Ranma first came to my house, it was raining, and he showed up in his girl form. It was a shock, since we were expecting the arranged fiance Daddy had told us about. But I was relieved to think that Ranma was a girl, because I was having some boy problems... Really stupid, inconsequential stuff, now that I think back on it... But anyway, Nabiki was poking at him and making some rude remarks about him not being a boy...**

Akane flushed with realization as she relived the memory with new perspective, and her chest contracted in empathy as she thought of Nabiki sticking her finger in Ranma's substantial female bosom, going on and on about how he was definitely _not_ a guy... of Ranma's embarrassed, quiet plea for her not to do that... _Oh, Ranma..._ she thought mournfully. **We didn't know... Oh, he must have felt _so_ humiliated! The curse was new to him, you see. I think it scared him, more than he wanted us to know. He... would never admit it, but... I think it still does.**

She lapsed into silence. It was awful, how clear hindsight was, how the understanding of the present brought the past into painful focus that was lost in the moment of actual occurrence.

**Why his idiot father didn't give him a chance to change back to normal before introducing him to us, I'll never know. But, thinking he was a girl, I asked him... if he wanted to be friends.**

Akane closed her eyes briefly against the memory. **The look on his face... it was relieved. Almost... timidly hopeful. He wanted... _needed_ a friend. And he probably wondered if he would be able to make any friends at all, with his curse. I can't really blame him for not telling us to begin with. He... probably thought no one would want anything to do with a gender-changing freak...**

Akane felt her lips begin to tremble, and her vision swam with tears, blurring the desolate, craggy canyon before her as she trudged on. **And I... I confirmed his worst fears. Me. The only one who showed him an ounce of friendship, turned on him... After the embarrassing bathtub scene, I was so angry... I was so worried about how _I_ would look, how _my_ life would be messed up...

**After Ranma changed back, and we were all sitting in the dining room, I saw him look over at me; that same timid, embarrassed look, as if hoping there might be a chance that I didn't mind the fact that he was cursed. But I just glared at him until he looked away. I knew he was hurt, but I didn't care, I was so mad. And then, after Genma told the story of how they were cursed at Jusenkyo, and the others agreed that I should be his fiancée, I was so worried about _me_, I didn't even think of how Ranma might be feeling. Of how badly he might need to have someone tell him that his curse didn't matter, that it was okay, and sorry about the mix-up in the bathroom, I understand it was an honest mistake, we can work out the fiancée problem later when our parents chill out, but in the meantime we could still be friends...**

Her tears fell to the stone ground, making light splashing patterns in the gray dust.

**But... I didn't. I... I made fun of him, of his curse... I said he was a couple all by himself... And Ranma was hurt and scared and he didn't want to show it so he responded the only way he could think of, and that was to hurt me back...

**So you see... it was my fault. I set the precedent for everything that was to follow. And then, even when I knew deep down how much Ranma meant to me, I could never say it because... I was a coward. And I know that Ranma could be a macho jerk sometimes, but most of the time it was because he was responding to my outrageous temper or my jealousy... or just being scared of his curse all over again...

**I came... so close, sometimes, to telling him the truth... Like when he came back from fighting Herb after that mountain collapsed. I was so glad he was alive and... okay... that I didn't care, I just hugged him and cried...**

And as the memory flared in Akane's mind, she could almost feel her arms around Ranma's torso, smell the clean, musky scent of his skin as she buried her face into the silk of his Chinese shirt, feel his trembling as, once, twice... his arms nearly went around her in return even as he stood frozen in shock...

**But even then, I couldn't _say_ it...**

Akane fell silent, unwilling to delve deeper into that old wound. She waited, half-expecting Susa-no-o to laugh at her, at her foolishness, or respond flippantly to her outpouring.

**You were a child, Akane.** His voice was surprisingly gentle and without reproach. **And now you are a woman, with a woman's understanding. You cannot think to judge the ignorant past with the wisdom you have in the present.**

Akane cracked a smile, even as her brown eyes glistened. **You're starting to sound like Masakazu.**

Susa-no-o laughed softly. **Do I? Well, you know what they say about 'birds of a feather.' And remember, just because _I'm_ the one who said it, doesn't make it less true.**

Akane drew a shuddering breath.

**I know.**

And she wept.

Even so, she continued walking. Her quiet sobs echoed off the canyon walls, and the solitary demons that dwelled within the caves and crevices listened to the sound and wondered at it, blinking their sunken yellow eyes in confusion because there was no scent, no human presence, and nothing to see that could be producing such a sound... A lost soul, perhaps? A ghost and nothing more...

**Why are you crying, Akane?**

She looked up at the dark, bleeding sky, blinking at the tears that trickled from the corners of her brown eyes, trying to gain a semblance of control. **Oh, I don't know. Everything. I guess you said it yourself. I'm a woman. I'm almost twenty-two years old. But Ranma... he's still only seventeen. Seventeen seems so long ago for me... I've changed, so much has happened to me here that I can't help but wonder... If I ever make it back, will Ranma... I mean, will he..? Will I..?**

She trailed off, and Susa-no-o was silent for a moment. **I don't know, Akane,** he said at last. **Age isn't something I comprehend very well, to be perfectly honest. And I can't see the future to tell you what's in store.** He was quiet, contemplating. **But, as you said, Ranma reacts to how you treat him, both positively and negatively. From what I know of the both of you, the only thing I can advise is that, if you do see Ranma again, you use the wisdom you have gained during your time here, act accordingly, and see what happens. That is all you, or anyone can do.** \

Akane absorbed his advice silently.

**Can I ask you one more question, Akane?**

Akane paused, then nodded.

**If, by some chance, you knew for certain that Ranma was going to choose someone else; if you finally made it home, and Ranma saw you and thought you were too old for him... If he decided then to marry Ukyo or someone else... would you still be here? Would you brave those demons again? Would you still go fight the Shadowcat for him, knowing that?**

The old, familiar pain welled in her heart as Susa-no-o's words conjured all-too familiar fears in her head, but the answer came immediately to both her mind and her lips.

"Yes," she whispered noiselessly.

**Good.** Susa-no-o's voice was grave. **Because we're there.**

Akane blinked. Then she unsheathed her katana, the tears evaporating from her eyes as her gaze hardened abruptly.

**Where is it?**

**Look up and to your right.**

Akane looked. About halfway up the craggy canyon wall was a cave, larger than any of the ones she'd seen thus far. It gaped from the hillside like a black, toothless mouth.

**Are you ready?**

Akane answered by leaping up the steep incline from one foothold to another until she stood before the entrance of the cave.

The inside of the cave was as black as molten tar.

A rippling shiver ran down Akane's spine, and she clenched her teeth against the sudden knot of fear in her stomach. **It's awfully dark in there,** she said hesitantly.

**No problem. Your battle ki will light up the cave for you.**

Akane snorted silently. **Yeah, for me, and for every other thing that might be in there.**

**Wrong.** Susa-no-o's voice was insufferably smug. **My comb hides every aspect of your presence, _including_ your ki. I mean, come on, if it couldn't mask your ki, half those demons by the border would have torn you apart in seconds. I guess you didn't realize that, during your fifteen minute dash, you were lit up like a neon sign, eh?**

Akane felt heat rise to her face. **I wasn't aware of much during that time,** she replied with irritation. **I was just trying to get away.**

**Anyway,** Susa-no-o soothed, **you don't need to worry about walking into that dark cave, because you'll be able to see. And the Shadowcat... well, it will be able to see too, but only because it can see in the dark anyway. It won't be able to see you, your ki, or the light it casts, so relax.**

Akane frowned worriedly, unconvinced. **You're sure the Shadowcat won't be able to sense me the way the Soul Gaki did?**

**Positive. The only souls the Shadowcat can sense are the ones connected to it through the Nekoken.**

Akane looked into the silent blackness of the cave. **This sounds way too easy. I just walk in there, sneak up on the Shadowcat without it even knowing, cut off its head, and that's all there is to it?**

Susa-no-o hesitated. **Well... no...**

Akane sighed. **I knew it. Okay, spill it.**

**Well... even ordinary cats in the mortal realm are attuned to the supernatural. They can see spirits and oni and the like. The Shadowcat probably won't be able to pin down your exact location, but it might be able to sense the power of my comb at work, and figure out that you're there. Nothing I can do about that. Still, it's not as bad as it seeing you outright.**

**I see,** said Akane, struggling to hold her temper in check. **And when, exactly, were you planning to give me this little piece of extremely vital information?**

**Now, of course.** Susa-no-o sounded as if her question was the silliest thing he'd ever heard.

**Thanks ever so much.**

**You're welcome.**

Akane scowled, then concentrated, and her battle aura flared a bright blue, spilling flickering light into the cave entrance.

Swallowing, she stepped into the thick darkness and began to silently make her way into the cave.

It was absolutely quiet; even her footfalls were soundless against the stone ground. Her battle aura lit the gloom in a smaller radius than she would have liked. The aura was brightest around her, of course, but the light it cast dimmed to darkness a mere ten to fifteen meters away.

Akane looked around. The cave ceiling sloped upwards until it was lost in the blackness above her. She swallowed nervously, her battle senses extended to the max; she didn't want anything dropping down on her from up there...

**You know,** she said, just for the comforting sound of her own mental voice. **The last time I was in a cave like this, it was in the mortal plane. The Cave of Lost Love. Ranma and I went together. It was supposed to be really romantic, but it was just creepy, full of ghosts and spirits... I suppose they were meant to send you clinging to your boyfriend's arm... and it worked a little, I guess, but Ranma and I ended up arguing as usual...** Akane bit her lip thoughtfully. **Although... now that I think back, Ryoga and Ukyo seemed to get more out of it than we did. Strange, that nothing ever happened between them after that.**

Susa-no-o's chuckle echoed in her head. **Akane, it's amazing how, with all you've learned, you can still be so dense sometimes.**

Akane bristled. **And what is that supposed to mean?**

**Nothing.** She could hear the smile in his voice. **Never mind.**

**If you're not going to tell me what you mean, don't say anything,** she snapped.

Susa-no-o just laughed quietly.

_So much for lighthearted conversation_, thought Akane angrily.

The narrow, craggy cave was quickly becoming a cavern, the walls and the ceiling expanding out of the radius of her aura, until her ki's dim blue sphere of light stood alone, surrounded by nothing but featureless darkness. It was almost as if the world outside of her battle aura had ceased to exist.

**This,** said Akane, her eyes widening, **is definitely creepy.**

**Don't think about it. Keep going. The Shadowcat's in here somewhere.**

**Thanks,** Akane replied wryly. **You're such a comfort...**

**I live to serve.**

And at that moment, a slow, suffocating feeling of evil began to build from the darkness.

Akane froze.

**Uh... I think it's here.**

**I think you're right,** Susa-no-o agreed.

Akane turned slowly in a circle, senses extended, feeling the demon as it grew closer, but not being able to _see_...

**Are you sure it can't see me?**

**Well, as sure as anyone can be under these circumstances.**

Akane felt her mouth go dry. **Great. Well, do me a favor, okay?**

**Anything for you, my dear.**

**Shut up for a while. Like, until this is over. I need to concentrate.**

**What, starting now?** he asked impishly.

**Yes, now!**

And, to her relief, Susa-no-o fell silent.

She turned, her katana blazing, trying to feel where the demon was coming from, but she could see nothing outside the light of her aura, and the feeling of evil didn't have a direction, it was just getting stronger...

**Who are you?**

The strange voice scraped against her consciousness, startling her.

The Shadowcat...

She stood, silent and swallowing, trying to feel... There!

She turned...

...and saw two yellow cat eyes, the size of dinner plates, glowing in the thick blackness about thirty meters from her, the huge narrowed orbs catching the dim light of her aura. The eyes were moving, scanning briefly in her direction, and then disappeared again into the darkness as they slowly turned from her, unseeing...

Unseeing.

She'd thank Susa-no-o later for small miracles...

Akane swallowed again, trying to get some moisture into her throat. Okay, so it was big. And telepathic. And if it stayed outside her aura's radius, she could only see its eyes when it looked in her direction...

She'd dealt with worse... right?

**Who are you?** the Shadowcat repeated. **I know you're here. I've known you were here since you stood at the mouth of my domain.** Akane saw the flash of its eyes in the blackness as its gaze wandered in her direction again.

She began to move towards it silently, katana held at the ready. _Prepare to die, demon_, she thought grimly.

**Could it be that you want me to guess?** The Shadowcat's tone was unnervingly calm. **Is that why you're so silent? Very well then...**

The edge of Akane's ring of light caught a flickering blackness at ground level, as if flames of darkness were eating away at the glow. Akane looked closer and saw that the flickering was black ki, surrounding a huge cat's paw, the claws extended...

The same paw that had pinned and killed Masakazu...

**Could it be that you are... Akane Tendo?**

Akane's eyes widened.

**I think it is. Who else would have such a reason to visit me in my own home, trying to sneak up on me so silently. But then I knew you would come; ever since I first started feeding on Ranma Saotome's ki, I've known. It's the blood spell, you see. I've become intimately acquainted with its powerful magic through my feasting. The Snow Woman, and even your dead sensei, Masakazu, were foolish enough to think that a single fluke strand of dragon blood was all that connected you and Ranma to each other across the dimensions. It never dawned on them that the blood spell that encompasses you and the blood spell that encompasses Ranma are two halves of the same whole. You are linked together, not just through a single dissipating strand, but through the entire blood spell itself, a spell woven with dragon blood, which not even the Kami Plane itself can penetrate.**

Akane focused, but a part of her found itself listening with morbid fascination to the demon's discourse. She had never discovered the reason behind her immunity to the Kami Plane's spell of Forgetfulness, and here, the demon was telling her...

**And that is why you are here. The Kami Plane cannot penetrate the blood spell to erase your memory of the mortal realm. You remember Ranma, clear enough. And somehow, you have found out what I've done to him, eh?**

_Aughh_, she thought. _Here it comes. The taunting... Focus... don't listen..._

Akane started moving forward again, staring as the edge of her aura slowly illuminated the lean, muscled form of the Shadowcat...

The beast was huge, its fur rippling with black ki, eating away at the dim blue light of her aura. It was looking away from her at the moment....

The Shadowcat laughed, a low growling chuckle that broke into the silence and echoed off the cavernous walls, hidden far off in the darkness. **To think, after all the Snow Woman did for me, giving me access to the mortal realm and practically delivering your fiance to me on a silver platter, and you didn't even go back to her. All that for nothing.** The demon laughed again, and its glowing eyes turned unnervingly in her direction, stopping...

It knew where she was.

Akane tensed, tightening her grip on her katana as the Shadowcat's narrowed yellow gaze seemed to look directly at her.

**I suppose you have come to avenge your dead sensei? To free your beloved Ranma's mind and soul from my control? How very noble of you. How tragically romantic.**

Over two years of listening to Masakazu's taunts had weaned Akane of losing her temper during battle. Still, she couldn't help but notice a twinge in her heart at the Shadowcat's words.

**Human love is so... bittersweet.** The demon bared its teeth in a gruesome approximation of a grin. **Did you know that, in spite of being trapped in the Nekoken, he still thinks of you?**

Akane felt her heart pound. _Don't listen..._

**I find it quite amazing, actually,** the Shadowcat continued. **Usually my gift eliminates all human thought and memory as the soul and mind transform to use the Nekoken. But your Ranma, he's unlike any I've ever had before. Oh, yes, his poor, altered mind is unable to comprehend or create even the simplest of words. He is no longer capable of even walking upright on two feet. Both his humanity... and his masculinity... have fled from him irretrievably, and his soul and mind belong to me. And yet, even so, images and memories of you constantly skirt the edges of his simple, feline thoughts... At least, I assume the girl in his mind is you, since I have yet to see your face. I could be wrong. It could be someone else entirely. Ah, that would truly be tragic, wouldn't it?

**But no,** the demon continued nonchalantly, **it _must_ be you he thinks of. It's sad, really, the way he looks for you, the way he waits for you in your bedroom, hoping you'll come home to him, not realizing that you never will. The way he drives your family crazy, meowing over and over like some poor abandoned house cat who misses its master.**

Akane's eyes were burning; her jaw was clenched to the point of pain. This, she realized, was much different than listening to Masakazu tease her with Ranma's voice, with Ranma's words. This was a torture of an infinitely crueler variety. _Focus!_ she thought to herself fiercely. Her control was slipping under the terrible images the Shadowcat was conjuring in her mind with its words, and if she lost control, she would lose the battle. And if she lost the battle, then Ranma would be trapped under this demon's control forever...

No.

Think rationally. Why was the demon telling her these things?

**Yes, it's sad, but if you've come to beg for his release, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. As I pointed out to your tengu sensei, just before I killed him, Ranma is strong; his ki is most filling, and he replenishes it so quickly. It has been a true delight feeding off of him.**

It wanted to make her lose control. To provoke her into a blind rage. To make her attack without thinking so that she would...

So that she would give away her position...

_It doesn't really know where I am,_ she realized. It was guessing. It could feel her, true enough, but even as she watched it in the dim blue light of her aura, its gaze slid away from her, as if doubting, as if searching in the darkness for some sign...

The realization brought back the control of rationality, and she felt a smile quirk at the edge of her lips. _Enough talk, demon_, she thought. _You're waiting for me to attack? Well, here I come._

She leaped silently, katana raised...

The Shadowcat felt her movement in the air and turned, hissing, its claws flashing in her direction. But Akane was ready, and she twisted, feeling the slashing power graze her left arm, hearing the sound of deep gouges tearing up the stone floor behind her. She brought her sword down in a bright arc...

The Shadowcat, hearing the sword cleave through the air, tried to leap away from Akane's presence...

... and screeched in agony as a searing pain lanced through its right flank, down towards its chest.

Its right foreleg fell, neatly severed, to the ground.

**All right, Akane!!** yelled Susa-no-o in her head.

**Be quiet!** she warned as she stood over the Shadowcat. But she was smiling. The Shadowcat was fast, but it hadn't been able to completely avoid her. Now to finish the beast off. Then Ranma would be free!

The Shadowcat was yowling, black ki and ichor leaking from its gaping wound. It looked up as it felt Akane's presence grow near, pain glazing its yellow eyes...

Akane raised her katana to administer the killing blow.

The Shadowcat hissed violently, and a flash of black ki leaped out from its body. Akane dodged, but the edge of the blast caught her and she staggered back against the force of it, gasping, her skin burning...

The Shadowcat's eyes glowed wildly, its gums pulled back from its needle-sharp teeth in a grimace of pain and fury. Both its body and its severed foreleg began to pulse with fiery red energy...

The leg began to twitch towards the Shadowcat, the severed end moving towards the bleeding stump...

The two parts touched... and began to fuse together. The Shadowcat extended the claws of its once-severed limb.

Akane's eyes widened in fear as she struggled desperately to regain her bearings, the black ki still burning at her skin, filling her lungs... What was going on?! No way could a demon pull itself together so fast. This wasn't supposed to happen!

**Now,** snarled the Shadowcat fiercely, as it pushed its pulsing body to all four legs, **I'm _mad_.**

--------------------

Nabiki and Genma saw Doctor Tofu to the door.

"Isn't there anything else we can do?" asked Genma, looking pleadingly at the young man. After over a week of standing by, watching helplessly, unable to help his only son, unable to even get near him because of Ranma's instinctive fear of him while in the Nekoken, he was just about willing to do anything.

Well, almost anything. He had yet to grow desperate enough to beg help from Cologne, who had returned to the Nekohanten and was openly gloating over their troubles after discovering that her plan to trap Ranma as Shampoo's groom had completely failed.

Still, he was almost ready to set out on a search for Master Happosai, who had been last seen drooling after a touring women's wrestling team, to see if the ancient letch knew of any way to reverse what had been done to Ranma.

"Just watch him. Keep him safe," Tofu said sympathetically, sensing the father's frustration, knowing that Genma couldn't approach Ranma too closely without the cursed boy arching his back and hissing at him. "That's all you can do now." He turned to Nabiki. "Try and make sure he doesn't pull the bandages off his hands again. Those wounds have got to be kept clean, or they'll get infected again." \

Nabiki nodded wearily. "I'll try. But he really hates those things. He keeps chewing on them."

"Well, do your best." Tofu sighed. "In the meantime, Shampoo, Mousse and I will keep searching for something in Kintaro-sensei's library that might help. Between the three of us, searching through all those Chinese books and scrolls, I'm sure we'll find something that will either break the cold spell that's trapped Ranma in female form or snap him out of the Nekoken. It will just take some time."

"That's what worries me," said Genma soberly. "Ranma has never been in the Nekoken for so long. Only an hour or so at the most, and here it's been over a week. It... can't be a good thing for him to--"

"DOCTOR TOFU! COME QUICKLY!"

The three startled as Ukyo's terrified voice screamed from inside Akane's room. Tofu didn't even blink before he was sprinting up the stairs, followed closely by Nabiki and Genma.

They burst into Akane's room to see Ukyo kneeling next to Ranma's prone female form.

Ranma was curled on his side, breathing shallowly, his delicate pale skin almost a translucent gray. His blue eyes were open, yet slightly glazed, staring about in confusion.

Tofu knelt next to the cursed boy, reaching out a hand to brush back the red bangs and peer into his eyes. At his touch, Ranma mewed weakly, but didn't move.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I... I don't know." Tears glistened in Ukyo's eyes. "He was okay, and then all of a sudden, he just collapsed."

Tofu's eyes narrowed, then widened in alarm. "His ki is being drained away," he said.

"What?" Ukyo's voice was low with horror.

"The cat demon," Tofu replied. "It's been feeding off Ranma's ki in small increments during the past week, but now it seems to be draining him dry..."

"Can't you stop it?!" asked Nabiki, her eyes wide.

Tofu looked up at her, his face pale and serious. "If I could stop it, I would have done so long ago. But it's his connection to the cat demon that's causing this, and..." He trailed off helplessly.

"But... if he loses all his ki..." Genma said softly. "Won't that... kill him?"

Tofu's eyes filled with impotent frustration as he looked down at Ranma, and nodded.

Genma closed his eyes, as if to block out... everything.

Ranma mewed weakly, tried to raise his head... and slumped abruptly. Ukyo cried out softly and reached out to take his curled, bandaged hand. "Stay with me, Ranchan," she whispered, looking into his eyes that stared with confused pain from his feminine face. "Don't you leave me..."

Ranma's eyes lost focus and slowly slipped shut as he slid into unconsciousness.

Ukyo pressed one fist to her mouth in horror, tears slipping from her wide eyes, as Doctor Tofu leaned over Ranma, frantically pushing shiatsu points to create more ki flow all over the boy's limp female body.

He leaned back after a moment, his face twisted in concern. "That's it," he said. "His ki replenishing points are open and flowing. That's all I can do."

Ukyo began to sob, still holding Ranma's delicate, slack hand. "No..."

Nabiki looked on, feeling angry, horrified, utterly helpless. "There has to be something we can do to stop this."

"Pray," said Tofu, not taking his eyes from Ranma's still form, "that the demon stops draining him before..."

He didn't need to say anything else. They understood.

And they all prayed.

--------------------

The Shadowcat stood on its newly-healed leg, its fur standing on end, its eyes blazing.

Akane stood tense and ready, focusing above the pain shooting through the nerves of her ki-burned skin, focusing above the terror eating at her stomach after seeing the demon re-form.

A low snarl of unearthly fury emanated from the demon's throat as it stared in the darkness, its nose and ears twitching as it sought some sign of the intruder who had dared wound it. Suddenly, its eyes narrowed, and it turned to stare directly at Akane, its nostrils flaring...

It knew where she was! How...

She felt a strange dampness splatter against her leather-clad foot. Looking down, she saw, in the blue light of her aura, a drop of dark liquid fall from the back of her left hand to the ground, hitting the tip of her boot, staining the light material...

Only then, when she saw the long gash from her knuckle to her wrist, did the pain register. She was bleeding. The Shadowcat could smell the blood as it fell from her hand to the ground, outside the protecting influence of Susa-no-o's comb.

The Shadowcat didn't hesitate. It pounced, claws flashing.

Akane jumped in a blur of speed, flipping up and over the demon's claws and the tearing destruction of their wake. Her own sword flashed out, stabbing and biting quickly into the Shadowcat's flesh as she landed behind it. And then the Shadowcat was yowling, turning to meet her attack with unbridled fury.

Akane twisted as the demon came at her, feeling a searing pain scorch across her thigh as, with scream of anger and pain, she drove her blade into the Shadowcat's throat with both hands. The demon slumped, screeching a horrible, gurgling yowl. The black ki burned Akane's skin, the smell of ichor made her stomach tremble in nausea, but she didn't pause as she pulled her blade from the demon's neck and leaped back just in time to miss the flashing of its claws.

Pain. Oh, she was bleeding bad. Her leg was a mess. She needed to get a tourniquet above the gaping wound, or she would be in trouble soon.

Not that she wasn't in trouble now...

The Shadowcat was pulsing with red ki, almost completely healed of its wounds once again. It pushed itself to its feet and turned towards the smell of her blood, yellow eyes glinting.

It flicked a paw in her direction. Akane gasped and tried to move out of the way, but searing pain lanced through her left shoulder, and she was flung back several meters from the force of the blow. She landed on her back, her head cracking against the stone floor.

Cracking...

As she lifted her head groggily, ignoring the pain in her shoulder, in her leg... the ivory comb fell from her braided hair, clattering to the ground in two pieces.

Akane felt Susa-no-o's silent presence vanish from her mind.

She saw the glowing eyes of the Shadowcat widen, its wide black pupils narrowing to slits from the sudden exposure to the dim flickering light of her battle aura as her fallen form appeared out of the nothingness.

Akane's own brown eyes widened as terror gripped her. _The comb..._

The Shadowcat grinned at her as she painfully pushed herself up into a sitting position, taking obvious note of her injuries. The demon didn't move, but simply watched in unconcealed amusement as Akane stared at it fearfully, then rolled over quickly, her shoulder and her leg welling blood... She kept a frantic grip on the hilt of her katana with her right hand as her left hand moved painfully, groping for the pieces of the comb. One piece was near by, grasped eagerly by her blood-slick hand, but the other piece had bounced off into the darkness.

_Focus! Think over the pain! Oh please, you can't lose now!_ Akane knew that she was losing blood quickly, that the Shadowcat was watching her struggle, playing with its prey before the kill. With a great effort of will, she pushed herself to her feet and faced the demon, her katana held before her in trembling hands.

**Akane,** the demon's voice growled in her mind, even as it grinned at her, baring its needle-sharp teeth. **You are fighting a losing battle. You see, when you hurt me, you are hurting Ranma. It is his ki that is healing me now.**

Akane froze, her eyes widening in horrified understanding.

Ranma...

**Do you want to kill him? If you somehow manage to stick me with that little knife of yours a few more times, he _will_ die. Even now, he is already unconscious from the drain I have exacted from him. His breathing is shallow, his heart is slowing. He can't take much more.**

The demon took a slow step towards her. **Will you kill him, Akane? I know you want to free him from the Nekoken. Well, death is the only thing that will free Ranma. Is this what you had in mind, Akane? Go on, attack me again. No matter what you do to me, I will only heal myself with Ranma's life force until there is nothing left of him. Then he will die. He will be free of me at last, but he will be dead. And even then, if you hacked me into a million pieces, I would only re-form again, eventually.**

Akane felt moisture on her cheeks as she stood in helpless fury. Futile... All this for nothing...

**I can smell your blood, Akane. It is full of fear. Perhaps it is not Ranma who will die after all. Perhaps it is you who will die here. And then Ranma can live a full, long life... as a mindless animal. As my perpetual feeding ground.**

A quiet sob escaped Akane's throat.

The Shadowcat was grinning, its mouth pulled back from its teeth even as it lowered itself into a crouch, its flickering yellow eyes glancing down to the pool of blood spreading at Akane's feet, then up to her pale, terrified face.

**So easy. Just like the tengu...**

The demon snarled and leaped for her, sensing the imminent kill...

And Akane's brown eyes sparked and narrowed. As the Shadowcat descended on her, she screamed out in grief and fury, rolling from beneath its flashing claws, twisting, bringing up her sword with both hands, flashing out with all her remaining strength in a bright arc...

The Shadowcat's snarl was abruptly silenced as its massive head flew from its shoulders. The demon's huge cat body collapsed bonelessly onto Akane, its dark ki burning her skin, filling her lungs, the ichor spilling from its stump of neck splattering against her skin...

She pushed the twitching mass off of her, shuddering.

She looked over to where the Shadowcat's head rested on its side, the long, rough tongue lolling from its open mouth.

The malevolent light of life in the demon's eyes flickered briefly, then extinguished.

Slowly, so slowly, the body began to move towards the severed head. But this time, there was no bright flare of red energy. Just the normal, twitching movements of a piece of dead demon, trying to reach its other half.

Akane looked at the revolting sight, her brown eyes glazed with numbness and pain...

The comb. She had to find the other piece.

There. Over by... the head.

Akane half limped, half dragged her wounded body over to the lifeless cat's head, leaving a streak of blood on the stone floor behind her, and slumped down. She looked down at her tunic, saw an edge of cloth shredded by the flash of cat claw, took hold of it with her right hand, and tore off a long strip of cloth. Slowly, painfully, she tied it tightly around her thigh, above the gaping, clotting wound.

She reached down, picked up the other half of the comb, and, with shaking hands, carefully fit the two pieces together. They wouldn't stay, so she tore another small strip of cloth from her tunic, focusing, trying desperately to ignore the searing pain from the bleeding wounds in her shoulder, and bound the broken comb together. It took three tries, her hands were shaking so badly, but finally she succeeded.

She reached back with her uninjured arm and plunged the comb into her hair...

**Akane...** Susa-no-o's voice, filled with relief.

"I... did it. I think..." she whispered weakly, looking at the demon's head. A few meters away, the body was still twitching towards her, making minimal progress.

**Yes.** The deity's mental confirmation was quiet, tinged with a touch of anxiousness as he noticed the state Akane was in. **You did it.**

"I..." Akane could feel darkness flickering on the edge of her sight. Or maybe it was her rapidly fading battle aura. "I broke your comb. Sorry."

**It's okay...**

"I don't... think I'm gonna make it out of here." Understatement of the year. She didn't think she could move at all, let alone walk all the way back through the Gaki domain, past all those demons at the border. Her tourniquet had slowed the bleeding of her leg, but her shoulder...

Akane blinked slowly through the pain. "Ranma... is he..?"

**He's fine, Akane. He's going to be all right. You saved him.**

Akane closed her eyes and smiled. "Good," she whispered. She was so tired. "Not for... nothing... then."

Her battle aura flickered out.

Darkness.

She felt herself falling... falling forward to the stone floor. Her cheek rested on its rough, cold surface.

**No. Not for nothing...** She thought she heard Susa-no-o's voice in her mind again, but couldn't be sure. Maybe she was dreaming. There were no other sounds but the quiet, slow twitching of a demon body...

**Not for nothing, my brave little Akane-chan.**

Akane felt a slight tingle emanate from the crown of her head, where the comb pierced her thick dark hair, and spread across her body...

The surface of the ground changed beneath her.

Still cold. Colder still. But soft, white, and wet. The darkness was still there, but now there were stars...

Bright, glittering stars. She could see them, even with her eyes closed. Even lying face down in the snow, her blood slowly seeping from her shoulder, staining it red.

_Ah,_ she thought, right before the stars faded from her mind's eye as darkness of a different kind, different from the Shadowcat's cave, different from the night sky above, claimed her.

_...familiar..._

--------------------

**Remember.**

A sound. A strange sound, like the chattering of tall ones...

No...

It wasn't strange. He knew that sound. It wasn't just a sound...

It was a word.

**Remember.**

It was a word. A command. And he knew what it meant.

It had been so long since he knew what it meant...

Remember.

Remember... what?

Words. More words. Words came flooding into his mind, and he knew what they all meant, and they joined together, slow at first, but then faster and faster until they were not just solitary words, but sentences, complete thoughts...

_I remember..._

A moment of confusion. _But why did I forget?_

And with that single thought, a floodgate opened, and Ranma's clouded mind was deluged with memories... So many memories, flowing around him, through him... until gradually they settled back into their proper place and order in his head...

Pop. Training trip. Endless training...

_Oh jeeze... Jusenkyo... how could I forget _that_..._

And then... the images that had been floating at the edges of his consciousness gained sudden meaning.

Akane...

_Akane. Oh yeah, Akane. I remember. Short hair uncute tomboy chick... _

_Real cute when she smiles..._

Ranma felt a warmth spreading through him at the thought and felt the urge to smile, but something was wrong. His thoughts were there, his memory returning, but he felt... disconnected from his body somehow and the smile wasn't there except in his mind, in the warmth that filled him... And yet, with the warmth associated with his memories of Akane, came a sudden sense of sick foreboding...

_Am I asleep?_

The memories kept coming, and with it, the feeling of foreboding grew stronger, stronger still, until Ranma was suddenly afraid.

_Herb... The Chiisuiton... No, I defeated him, that's over... _

_Shinnosuke..? No... Akane came home with me, she didn't stay with him, she only stayed to save his life because he once saved hers... But she came home with me.... _

_So what is it that's making me feel so..._

And then, from the back recesses of his mind, Ranma heard... voices.

Voices, harsh whispered, growing louder, growing in intensity...

**Akane is alive Akane is aliveAkaneisaliveAkaneisalive akaneisaliveakaneis...**

**You'll never see her again, you're doomed to fail, you already have, you should give up you'll never see her again you're doomed to fail you already have youshouldgiveupyou'llneverseeheragainyou'redoomedtofailyoualreadyhave...**

And, with a surge of horror, Ranma remembered.

Shampoo. The blood spell. The tape. Nabiki, Ukyo, Ryoga, Doctor Tofu...

The Ancient One. A way to break the blood spell and rescue Akane...

The Snow Woman. The... Shadowcat...

The Shadowcat.

_Oh no._

And the memories kept coming.

He remembered. Everything. The wildness, the fear, the feeling of his mind and soul diminishing...

Running all night on all fours in blind terror with the Shadowcat at his heels, the demon laughing, enjoying his fear...

Hunger... so hungry... Eating fish raw, scales and... everything...

A battle... A... tengu. Fighting for him. Fighting _him_ as the demon enters his mind, fills it and makes him attack the tengu like a puppet.... A strange blast from the tengu's feathered hands as he attacks...

Waking up. The Shadowcat gone. The tengu... dead? The smell of blood on the forest grass overwhelming his instincts, but then...

Ryoga. Ryoga finding him... filling him with instincts of home...

And always, the memories of Akane, lingering... The horrible aching in his chest... The days spent in her room, crying out for her, waiting...

Ranma felt sick.

Oh _gods_. How long was he... like that? And why could he remember everything that happened to him now, when he never could before..?

**Remember...**

Physical sensation slowly began to return. Ranma was gradually aware of light pressing against his closed eyelids; of quiet sobbing sounding close to his ear.

Ah, he ached... could barely move. What had happened to him? What had... snapped him out of it?

He slowly opened his eyes...

"He's awake," said Nabiki, relief evident in her voice.

"Oh Ranchan!" Ranma felt a pressure squeezing his limp hand.

He turned his head slowly to see Nabiki and Doctor Tofu standing over him, looking on with worry, then looked over to see Ukyo, her face streaked with tears, clasping his hand in both of hers.

His brow furrowed in concern. "Ucchan," he whispered hoarsely, and as his voice reached his own ears, he realized he was in girl form. "Don't cry..."

He heard sharp intakes of breath from Nabiki and Doctor Tofu.

Ukyo's face froze in a rictus of shock. She stared at him in disbelief. "R... Ranchan?" A moment passed as he looked back at her, feeling strangely awkward. Then, before he could say anything else, her expression burst into one of tearful joy, and she swept him up in a crushing embrace, making him wheeze for breath. "Ranchan! You're back!"

"Y-yeah," he gasped. He felt strangely weak, worse than when he used most of his ki in the Mouko Takashiba he loosed when he tried to stop the blood spell.

The blood spell...

Akane. He remembered. He had to break the blood spell and get Akane back.

"Yeah," he said again, his blue eyes distant and haunted and determined as Ukyo continued to hug him. "I'm back."

--------------------

The Snow Woman wept icy tears of grief as she stood over Akane, who lay pale in the starlight, nearly bled white; the jagged, gaping wounds from her leg and shoulder staining the pristine snow bright red.

Yuki-onna knelt down next to the girl and carefully turned Akane's motionless form over. She reached down and cradled the body gently in her cold white arms...

...and felt the fading warmth coming from Akane's human skin.

"Still alive," Yuki-onna whispered. Her frost blue eyes glistened as the icy tears of grief turned to icy tears of joy. "Still alive..."

She stood, carefully holding Akane's limp form in her arms, not caring about the blood that stained her flowing silken robes, and began to walk quickly back to her home.

"Ah, my little Akane-chan, you've finally returned to me..."

--------------------

End of Part Fifteen


	17. Memories of the Past

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 16: Memories of the Past

by Krista Perry

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It was snowing.

Ranma shivered, looked around blearily, feeling strangely weak.

Snow covered the ground as far as he could see; light flakes drifted lazily from the clouded night sky. The tiny, shimmering crystals stung the skin of his face and hands with pricks of biting cold.

_Jeeze... I can barely move... What's wrong with me..?_

A wave of exhaustion swept over him, and his legs threatened to buckle beneath him. He stumbled forward a step, leaving a deep dragging track in snow that almost came up to his knees, but he remained standing.

He was so cold...

"Where am I?" he asked no one, his voice small and lost in the vast snowy wasteland. The wind answered, soft, wailing...

Ranma...

He turned at the voiceless sound of his name to see the Snow Woman, tall and white, a cruel smile on her bloodless face. And standing in front of her was Akane, wearing her school uniform, looking at him blankly.

"Akane!" He tried to move, but his legs felt so heavy that he couldn't lift them... and he was so cold...

Akane's brow furrowed in puzzlement. "Do I know you?"

"Akane!" His voice was thick with despair. He reached out to her with shaking arms. "It's me... please, you have to remember. It's just the Kami Plane making you forget!" He glanced between her and the Snow Woman. "You don't belong with her, Akane, she's a demon! Please, come back to me..."

Akane shrank away from him, clinging to the Snow Woman's frost blue robes.

"Your... love... is not the binding link you thought it was," said the Snow Woman softly, smiling at him. And, as she reached out with a slender white finger to touch him in the center of his forehead, he found he could not move to stop her...

A cold, watery chill rippled over the surface of his skin. And he felt himself change. He looked down at himself, at his woman's body, in horror. "What..!"

His head snapped up fearfully to see Akane's own brown eyes widening at the sight of his transformed body, only to narrow a moment later, her nose wrinkling in aversion. "Ughh," she said. "A pervert."

Ranma's heart shriveled within his chest. "No... Akane," he pleaded, his mezzo-soprano voice grating in his ears. "I'm not..."

"Jerk. Insensitive pervert," she said.

Ranma trembled.

The Snow Woman laughed. "Take it slow," she said, soft and sultry. "We don't want to put him out of his misery too soon."

A soft, purring chuckle echoed in his head, and Ranma jerked, his throat going dry, his eyes wide and staring.

_No, oh no, please, not again, anything but..._

Ranma pressed himself into the corner of his room, next to the dresser. The stinging snowflakes were shivering pieces of glass, a shattering light bulb plunging him into darkness...

The demon's huge cat eyes were opaque yellow orbs glinting in the dark as it slunk closer. **Ah, you remember me. I'm flattered. You're my favorite, you know...**

Ranma whimpered. Something inside him, something that had been there since he was ten years old, awoke and began crawling up from the blackest depths of his soul. Ranma felt himself falling, falling inside himself, as the feline thing within him rose to the surface. He was falling...

...to his hands and knees, unable to stand upright...

_...Oh please, help me, somebody..._

...was running, running on all fours, driven by fear, unable to stop himself...

...opened his mouth to scream, to cry for help, but all that came out was a terrified yowling...

Ranma felt warm tears well up, turning cold as they touched his skin, streaking down his girl's face as he ran...

_Please... somebody, help me..!_

"It's okay, Ranma."

And he turned, wrapping his paws protectively around his half-eaten fish, to see a strange bird-man, black eyes glittering above an expressionless beak. "You know me, deep down. You know I'm a friend. I've helped you before, and I'm here to help you now."

Ranma stood on four legs, looking up at the tengu through red bangs, feeling the blank animal expression on his own female face. _Yes, please... please help me, I don't like this at all, I can't think..._

But, as the tengu stepped towards him, five gaping, bleeding wounds opened up in the creature's feathered chest. The tengu looked down at himself for a moment, almost surprised, then collapsed lifelessly onto the forest grass...

Ranma could smell the blood, could feel the ravenous hunger it stirred within him, glazing his mind, even as he silently screamed...

A demon laughing...

"Ranma..?" Ryoga looked at him, disbelief and horror flickering across his face.

_...Ryoga..._ Ranma turned, nose twitching as he caught the scent of food in the lost boy's pack. _...please help me, I can't think, I..._

"C'mere, Ranma." Ryoga was kneeling down, beckoning to him. "C'mere, kitty kitty..."

And Ranma felt himself respond to the incomprehensible chattering, like the feline animal he was. He chewed ravenously on the strip of meat snatched from Ryoga's hand. And the smothered, nearly non-existent spark of his human consciousness knew, and felt it all. And wanted to die...

Cologne, the shriveled old ghoul, sat on a neighboring rooftop, cackling silently in the shadows, her narrowed eyes staring down at him...

...kitty kitty kitty...

**Poor Ranma.** The Shadowcat's voice, in his head, condescendingly mocking. **You're a good kitty, aren't you? Yes you are...**

_Akane..! _ Ranma opened his mouth to call her, but he was meowing, the words wouldn't come, he couldn't remember... Just meowing over and over... _Oh, please, Akane, please come back, I need you... I've lost myself, I can't think..._

A whispering, scratching away in the deep recesses of his mind. Growing louder. *You'll never see her again, you're doomed to fail, you already have, you should give up you'll never see her again you're doomed to fail you already haveyoushould giveupyou'llneverseeheragainyou'redoomedtofailyoualreadyhave...*

--------------------

Ranma gasped as his eyes snapped open, his heart thudding hard in his chest, the spell voices echoing loudly in his mind...

Ceiling. He was looking at the ceiling of his room.

A dream...

_Oh jeeze..._ Ranma squeezed his eyes shut and slowly, painfully pushed the spell voices from the forefront of his mind. His mouth was dry, he was shaking, drenched in cold sweat... no, more than cold... Icy...

Turning his head slightly, he opened his eyes and blinked, trying to focus on the reality around him, to shake off the nightmare... Dim, early-morning light seeped through the drawn shades over the window. He could see boards and plywood covering the hole that he blasted in the wall of his room while trying to take out the Snow Woman last night...

_Not last night. Days ago. Ages ago. I remember..._

"Ranchan?"

Ranma startled slightly, only then realizing that someone was in the room with him. Ukyo leaned over him, her weary expression twisting with a mixture of relief, concern, and... fear. "Are... you okay?"

Ranma groaned and, as he carefully pushed himself into a sitting position, he realized with dismay that he was not a "he" at all.

_But then, I already knew that,_ he thought dismally.

He rubbed his face with his delicate, bandaged hands, wiping away the icy sweat that clung to his skin. Ukyo watched him in silence.

"What... what happened?" he asked finally. The last thing he remembered was regaining consciousness... Ukyo sweeping him up in a crushing hug... the overwhelming desire to stand up... to walk on two legs like a m... like a human being... to leave immediately for China to break the blood spell and save Akane...

"Doctor Tofu hit your sleep points." Ukyo's voice was soft, and strangely thick. "You've been asleep for nearly ten hours. You..." _You nearly died, Ranchan, I was so afraid, I thought I'd lost you..._

Ukyo swallowed, fighting back wetness building in her eyes. She couldn't think of that now. Ranma needed her. "You... were so drained of ki, you needed time to recover, but you kept trying to stand up..." _...and you were going on and on about breaking the blood spell and saving Akane..._ "...and I... we... were afraid that you would hurt yourself because we weren't sure..."

She trailed off as Ranma turned to look at her, his red bangs sticking to his damp forehead, his haunted blue eyes looking at her from his girl's face...

His eyes were haunted, yes. But... at least she could see _him_ in those eyes, and not the vacuously innocent feline that had peered at her from those same eyes for the past eight days...

Ranma was back. It didn't even matter to her that he was a girl at the moment, that his eyes were framed by a sweetly delicate female face, so similar to, yet so different from Ranma's handsome, strong male features that made her heart flutter inside her chest. She looked into his blue eyes, the windows to his soul, the only part of him that didn't change with his transformation, and knew that Ranma's mind was finally restored, even if his body wasn't...

As if thinking the same thing, Ranma looked down at himself, at his female body. He blinked in numb horror, as if noticing his curse for the first time. Soft, well-proportioned curves and petite frame under his tank top and boxers... creamy, flawless skin... His cursed form was voluptuously female in every sense of the word. Not a trace of masculinity to be found in it.

Except in the eyes. The haunted flickering in his blue eyes would tell anyone who cared to look deep enough, as Ukyo did, that Ranma's cursed form was as alien to him as it might have been had he fallen into the Spring of Drowned Piglet, the Spring of Drowned Duck... or the Spring of Drowned Cat...

A tremor passed through Ranma's slender, shivering body. "Oh man," he whispered, almost silently. And Ukyo realized at that moment that Ranma somehow knew he was stuck in cursed form. She wanted to reach out and comfort him, tell him it didn't matter, that she knew he was a guy, no matter what...

"Are you... okay?" she asked again.

"Ucchan," he replied hoarsely, and his eyes lost focus as he seemed to stare right past her. "I... remember everything."\

Ukyo looked at him, uncomprehending for a moment. Then her face went white as she suddenly understood the full meaning of the tormented expression on his face. "Oh, Ranchan. I... You mean you remember being... you remember the Nekoken?"

Ranma nodded slowly, shuddering, and rubbed his face with his bandaged hands again, as if he could rub away the memories. "Oh man..." he whispered.

And Ukyo felt her heart contract in painful empathy. Ranma was so proud, so driven by honor, so fiercely protective of his masculinity... For him to remember the humiliation of his existence the past eight days, with both his mind and body so changed...

_But then, that means... he must remember that I stayed with him..._

Ukyo blinked, thinking of the time she spent, staying by Ranma's side, taking care of him, searching desperately for some sign of the man she loved in his feline mind, hoping against hope that she could coax his humanity back to the surface the way Genma said the old woman had done when he was a child. After all, wasn't she his fiancée?

But his feline mind had not been focused on her.

Ranma had spent almost every waking moment in Akane's room. And Ukyo had stayed with him, taking care of him, trying to comfort him, to hush his mewing even as he cried constantly for the missing girl...

A girl that, according to her memory, didn't exist. A girl she didn't want to believe in, even now with the explanation of the Kami Plane's spell of Forgetfulness altering their memories. Even with all the evidence of the youngest Tendo daughter's room that had surrounded her for over a week. A part of her still clung to the hope that it was all a result of the blood spell; that, when they went to China, faced the Ancient One and broke the spell, all traces of this Akane person would disappear, and Ranma would realize that the love he felt for the non-existent girl was nothing more than a result of the spell he was under...

But another part of her, the solid, rational part, knew that she was fooling herself. This was the part of her that knew of Nabiki's similar internal struggle. She knew that the Tendo girl had feelings for Ranma. She had seen those feelings in a fleeting moment when Nabiki's usual cold mask had slipped, the very afternoon before Ranma was taken by the Shadowcat...

And yet, even so, Nabiki chose to expose the truth behind the blood spell and the Kami Plane's spell of Forgetfulness; revealing the truth of her younger sister's existence, knowing that doing so destroyed any chance she might have with Ranma...

Of course, what Nabiki did was only right. To do anything else would be selfishly inhuman, even more monstrous than what Shampoo did, casting the blood spell in the first place. But Ukyo couldn't help but envy the stone-faced girl her ability to put fierce, unblinking family loyalty above her own private passion.

Ukyo had no family. Her own passion and loyalty was completely undivided. It lay solely with Ranma.

But he loved Akane...

And her own words to Shampoo, as she rebuked the Amazon for casting the blood spell, echoed relentlessly, mercilessly in her mind...

_If you ever really cared about him at all... you would have let _him_ choose._

Ranma had chosen.

And what was she to do now?

"Ucchan..." Ranma's female voice, filled with panicky concern, calling her from the depths of her misery... "Don't... don't cry, Ucchan. I'm... okay. Really."

Ukyo looked up at him, at his pale girl's face, his haunted blue eyes... He was lying, of course; she could tell just by looking at him that he was far from okay.

And she hadn't even realized she was crying. She wasn't the weepy type, really. She had cried more this past week than she had in her entire life. Even now, she couldn't feel the tears that coursed down her face to fall lightly on her hands, folded in her lap. She just felt numb. The surface of her skin tingled. She kept waiting for the shattering sound of her heart, but it didn't come. Her heart continued to pound in her chest, almost painfully, as if forcing her to be aware that she was still alive...

Ranma was still trying to comfort her in his usual awkward way, and of course he had no real clue regarding the true source of her tears. He was so naive that way... "I mean, hey," he was saying, trying to sound cheerful and failing miserably. "I know I'm... stuck... right now..." His eyes wavered a little, as if afraid to look down at his body; the body that, by all appearances, denied him the right to use the male pronoun at all. "But at least I... I'm... back, right?" He pointed half-heartedly towards his head with one slender hand. "I mean... one out of two ain't bad, I guess..." He tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow, and the laugh didn't reach his eyes.

Ukyo felt a sad smile curling at the edges of her mouth as she wiped the tears from her face. How like him, trying to cheer her up, when he looked like he was on the verge of tears himself. But he hated to see girls cry...

"Ucchan." Ranma's voice was quiet, penetrating, demanding her attention. He dropped his gaze to his hands in his lap. "I... I'm no good at this but..."

Ukyo stopped breathing.

"... but... I remember... how you stayed with me. How you..." He winced, and heaved a deep, shaky breath, as if the effort of thinking back on the past eight days was physically painful. His cheeks flushed with remembered humiliation, but he plunged ahead. "Anyway... I just... Thanks," he finished awkwardly. He looked up at her, and smiled half-heartedly.

Ukyo sighed.

"Ranchan..." she said, reaching out to take his small, bandaged hand. He looked down at where her hand clasped his, as if unsure how to react. She smiled thinly, her green eyes bright and wet, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "You..."

_You want to come with me, don't you? You want to come with me, and we'll search for a way to break the Snow Woman's cold spell so that you can be a man again, and we'll be together and then you'll see how I've loved you for so long, how I would love you forever, and we'll live happily for the rest of..._

She looked at Ranma, and in his face she could see... gratitude. Unconditional friendship. The same feelings she'd seen in his face, for her, since they were children together...

And that was all.

"You want..." She swallowed. "...to leave now to break the blood spell, don't you?"

Ranma blinked at her in surprise, then nodded. "Yeah," he said hoarsely.

She could almost see him thinking about Akane. It was the one thing she recognized in his countenance from the past week.

"Well then," she said. And to her surprise, her voice did not crack. "Everyone's packed and ready to go. We're ready to leave when you are."

And the haunted look on Ranma's face faded slightly, to be replaced by eagerness, anxiousness...

"I'm ready now," he said.

Ukyo's smiled. But the smile could not reach her eyes.

-------------------

"Nabiki. Nabiki, wake up."

Nabiki groaned and tried to bury her head deeper into her pillow. "G'way, Ukyo," she muttered crankily. To be shaken out of the first real rest she'd had in over a week did not put her in the best of moods.

Ukyo shook her again. "Ranma's awake," she said quietly.

Nabiki lifted her head out of her pillow and looked at Ukyo, all thoughts of sleep immediately banished from her mind. She sat up, realizing as she did that she had fallen asleep where she collapsed on her bed, still completely dressed, lying above her bed covers. "Where is he? Is he okay?"

"He's... fine." Ukyo's green eyes flickered slightly, and she reached up to absently brush her thick chestnut hair over her shoulder. "He's getting dressed. He wants to leave for China right away."

Nabiki nodded, running her fingers through her own mussed hair. "I knew he would. We'd better go downstairs, wake the others, and tell them to get ready." Then she peered closely at Ukyo, at her pale face and red, swollen eyes... "Ukyo... are you okay?" She frowned. "Don't tell me you didn't get some sleep when you had the chance."

"I'll sleep on the plane." Ukyo smiled weakly as Nabiki continued to frown reprimandingly, and sat down next to her on the bed, her shoulders sagging. "But how could I think of sleeping," she whispered, "when he was so... so..."

And tears welled up in her eyes again. She brushed at them in frustration and sighed.

Nabiki's half-lidded scowl melted away. "It's okay," she said quietly. "I understand."

Ukyo smiled gratefully. It was so strange. Before the whole blood spell crisis, she never would have thought she could be friends with someone who seemed as cold and mercenary as Nabiki Tendo. But the past week, as the two of them worked together trying to find a way to help Ranma, she had seen a completely different side to the older girl.

Well, not really a different side. Nabiki was as businesslike and no-nonsense as usual. But now, Ukyo knew that beneath Nabiki's coldly rational intellect beat a truly warm heart. The Nabiki she had come to know this past week was a person she was glad... and surprised... to call her friend. And the most surprising thing was that she knew the feeling was reciprocated. Nabiki seemed just as amazed to find a companion and ally in the okonomiyaki chef.

And in their talks, conversations that had stretched into the long hours of the night as they kept their careful vigil over Ranma, they both found comfort from their mutual grief in the first real female friendship they had ever experienced. For while Ukyo had forsaken her femininity throughout her childhood and had thus never had any real female friends, Nabiki's self-imposed isolation, her general disdain for the "giggling fools" that made up the popular cliques, and her intentional fostering of her own ruthless reputation, prevented her from forming any meaningful bonds with her peers... male or female.

In spite of all that, as well as their personal differences, they were now fast friends.

"Nabiki," Ukyo looked up at her, her expression etched with anguish. "He... remembers. He remembers everything."

Nabiki's eyes widened. "Are you serious?" she breathed. Ranma had never remembered anything about his experiences in the Nekoken after coming out of it. She chewed her lip in silent consternation as she thought of the consequences of Ukyo's revelation; of the devastating effects it could have on Ranma's ego. "I was afraid of something like this. He's never been in the Nekoken so long before."

Ukyo looked down as she twisted her hands in her lap. "You should see him, Nabiki." Her voice was low and hoarse. "You can see it in his face; all the memories... And on top of that, he's stuck as a girl, and he knows it."

Nabiki closed her eyes briefly. This was not good. "Do you think he's up to this?" she asked. "Leaving for China right away?"

Ukyo laughed; a short, sad sound, full of irony. "I don't think we could stop him if we tried. He wants... to rescue Akane. Right now, that's even more important to him than changing back into a guy. Probably more important to him than breathing."

Nabiki glanced at Ukyo, her expression carefully neutral. "Ukyo... you haven't given up on Ranma, have you," she said quietly. A statement, not a question.

Ukyo didn't raise her head, but she blinked and brushed at her wet eyes with her hand. "Dammit, I knew you were going to say that." Her voice was low, but steady. "What can I say, Nabiki? I know he loves... your sister... and I want him to be happy. Heck, I want you and your family to be happy..." She sniffed, and her voice broke. "But... I would be lying if I said I didn't think about what might happen... I mean, I can't help but think, what if the blood spell can't be broken? What if it's impossible to get Akane back? And then I think, Ranma will need someone to comfort him..."

Ukyo put her face in her hands, her long hair spilling forward around her. "And then... I feel so _ashamed_ for thinking it... for feeling that way... because I know that's what Shampoo planned when she cast the blood spell in the first place..."

Nabiki sat quietly for a moment. "You're being too hard on yourself, Ukyo," she said at last. "I know you. You would never have cast the blood spell. And what you're thinking is only human nature. I myself have wondered... if it's too late to save Akane."

Ukyo raised her head and looked up at her in shock.

"Don't look so surprised. It's been almost three weeks since the blood spell, after all, and anything could have happened to her in the Kami Plane." In spite of the calm bluntness of her words, Nabiki's hazel eyes flickered slightly. "And I keep thinking... what if she's lost forever? How will I... feel?"

Nabiki sighed and looked around her room. "I mean, I know she's real, because of the hard evidence I've found, and that I keep finding..." She thought of the negatives of Akane she'd discovered on the same rolls of film that she'd used to take pictures of Ranma's girl form... and evidence in her ledger that she'd sold all of the photos to Kuno...

She glanced back at Ukyo. "I know she's real. But I don't _remember_ her," she said quietly. "I mean, if she is lost forever, it won't be like when Mother died. There are no feelings, no memories, no nostalgia... Nothing for me to... to mourn for. None of us... Father, Kasumi... have any reason to feel grief over the loss of Akane, because we only have the intellectual knowledge that she exists somewhere far away. I think of my mother. It's been years since her death, and there are so many things about her I've forgotten... but at least I remember that I loved her, and that she loved me. I can still feel it..."

Nabiki trailed off for a moment and closed her eyes. "But... I don't have anything like that for Akane," she finished.

Ukyo looked at Nabiki, her eyes wide. She hadn't even considered that. And yet it made sense. After all, this past week the Tendo family had seemed much more concerned over Ranma's plight than over the plight of the daughter/sister they knew existed but couldn't remember.

Nabiki opened her eyes and raised her head, yet her calm expression quivered slightly. "Did you know, I almost didn't tell anyone of my discovery that Akane was real?" She chuckled humorlessly. "I almost didn't. I almost swept her existence under the carpet, because I knew it would be easier to live in the reality that had imposed itself on all of us, rather than try to bend all our lives to Ranma's reality. Even if his reality was the right one."

"What made you change your mind?" asked Ukyo softly.

Nabiki snorted in quiet self-derision. "Because, Ukyo, in spite of my carefully cultivated image as the woman of ice, I'm a complete softy. The truth is, I couldn't stand to see Ranma suffer because of Shampoo's lies any more."

Ukyo saw wetness form in Nabiki's hazel eyes in spite of her calm demeanor. "Besides," she continued, "whether I remember her or not... Akane's my sister. She's family. And I want to remember her. I want to know her. I look at the pictures of her with our family, and I still can't remember her. I can't feel anything for her except frustration that she's nothing but a big blank in my mind, and it makes me feel sick, and I can't bear the thought of not even being able to feel proper grief over her disappearance."

Nabiki's hands clenched at her sides. "I don't like anyone or anything messing with my mind. Or my family. And this blood spell has done both. So, even though I know it might be... too late... I hope Ranma can break the blood spell and get Akane back. But... if he can't... if worse comes to worse and something goes wrong..."

She trailed off, then turned to look into Ukyo's wide eyes. "If Ranma can't break the blood spell, you _should_ be there for him," she said firmly. "Because Ranma _does_ remember Akane. And if he can't get her back... Well, just as Shampoo planned, he'll need someone to comfort him. And you're more qualified than anyone else I know to do that. At least in my eyes."

Ukyo blinked, stunned. Then a small, tremulous smile lit her face. "Thanks, Nabiki. I... I really needed to hear that."

"Don't thank me. I'm just giving you the cold hard facts of the matter."

Ukyo's smile turned wry. "Precisely why I'm thanking you." She sighed heavily, almost in relief, as if a great black burden had been lifted from her, and stood from the bed. "I think Ranchan should be dressed by now," she said.

Nabiki nodded, and stood as well. "We should probably go get him and let him know what's been going on, before he goes downstairs and finds--"

"OH, MY PIGTAILED GODDESS!! THOU HAST AWAKENED FROM THY SLUMBER AND COMETH TO GREET ME LIKE THE BREAKING RAYS OF DAWN DISPELLING THE DARKEST NIGHT!!"

"GYAAAAA!! KUNO, GET OFFA ME, YOU PERVERT!!"

Ukyo and Nabiki exchanged glances as the shouts rang through the house.

Nabiki shrugged. "Too late," she sighed. Ukyo turned and ran out the door and down the stairs as Nabiki followed quickly after.

They reached the dining room just in time to see Kuno collapse to the floor unconscious. Ranma stood, trembling in fury, his favorite black pants and red Chinese shirt hanging loosely on his female body, his small fist still extended from his thrown punch.

And Nabiki couldn't help but feel elated to see him standing on two legs, human intelligence burning brightly in his narrowed blue eyes, even if those eyes were framed by a female face. It had been too long...

He turned towards her sharply as she followed Ukyo into the room. "What the _hell_ is Kuno doing in here?!" he yelled, seething.

Nabiki smiled. "Well, he felt it was beneath him to camp outside with the others, so..."

"You know what I mean, Nabiki," he growled.

She suppressed a smirk. Yes, Ranma was back. "He's paying our way to China," she answered matter-of-factly. "He's flying everyone there in a private jet. So before you go breaking any more of his teeth, you might want to remember that without him, we'd all be taking the slow boat, so to speak."

Ranma blinked, and looked down at the fallen samurai. "He's... paying? But weren't you... I thought you said..."

Nabiki's smile flickered so slightly that Ranma thought he might have imagined it. "Oh, that," she said smoothly. "Well, you know, I figured if Kuno was up for it, why not? Besides, he's more than happy to foot the bill whenever you're--oof." She was cut off as Ukyo elbowed her a little too roughly in the ribs.

"What she means to say, Ranchan," said Ukyo, ignoring Nabiki's angry scowl, "is that she can't pay for the trip because she's broke."

"Broke?" Ranma blinked in astonishment. "Nabiki?" For some reason, he was having trouble associating the two words together.

Nabiki clenched her teeth, her face flushing slightly, and looked away. She hated to acknowledge that she had depleted all her resources, without a single personal asset remaining. Knowing that she was only barely in the black made her feel naked and exposed. But everything had happened so fast, and she didn't have the time to make back the money she'd spent, between having the Nekohanten bugged, making the tape dubs, hiring people to find Ranma, searching all over trying to track down ways to break all the magic spells that had been flying thick... Hell, she was drained dry. It would take months of working in her usual circles before her finances were back to normal.

Ukyo pretended not to notice her friend's discomfort. After all, she was proud of Nabiki's sacrifice, and if Nabiki wouldn't confess to her generous acts, she would. "She spent all the rest of her money this past week trying to find a way to help you break out of the Nekoken," she said, looking meaningfully at Ranma.

Ranma's eyes widened as he looked over at Nabiki. She looked up and met his gaze, her cool expression almost defiant, as if daring him to find the spark of compassion she had tried for so long to keep hidden, lest it ruin her ruthless reputation.

But in that moment, as she looked into his eyes, behind the growing realization on his face, she saw...

... saw a flash of the haunted memories that were playing through his mind, glittering in his eyes. The shadow that crossed his face was raw and terrible, and it made her want to shudder. _Oh no_, she thought, all thoughts of money and reputations vanishing from her mind. _Ukyo was right, he remembers everything. How can he stand it?_

Ukyo must have seen it too, because she reached out. "Oh... I'm sorry Ranchan, I didn't mean..."

Ranma blinked, and the shadow faded from his countenance. He sighed. "It's okay, Ucchan," he said quietly. And he walked over to Nabiki, looking up through his red bangs into the taller girl's face. "I'll... find a way to pay you back," he said sincerely.

Nabiki stared at him. She couldn't help but think of the time when Ranma had accidentally destroyed a pair of elite concert tickets, complete with backstage passes, on which she had splurged in a rare moment of extravagance. He had humbly apologized, but she had been furious at the loss. The next day, when she and Ranma were left alone in the house while the others ran errands, she made him suffer. She pulled every dirty trick and manipulation in the book, and then some. When she was finally through with him, poor Ranma was a frazzled wreck.

Now, for the first time in her life, as she thought back on that incident of revenge, she felt... ashamed.

_Ranma's not the only one who's been changed by this blood spell_, she realized with a surprise that didn't reach her expression. _Though I'm not quite sure if this is a good thing or not..._

She decided not to think about it at the moment. Instead, she looked at Ranma and feigned indifference to his offer. "Don't worry about it," she said, not quite able to hide her discomfort. "Just promise me you'll rescue my sister, okay?"

Ranma nodded, his blue eyes grave and grateful. "I promise," he said.

Nabiki looked past him, eager to change the subject. She spotted just the thing. "Oh, and just so you know. When he wakes up," she said, gesturing to Kuno's unconscious form, "he's flying us to China so that we can rescue his beloved mystery girl -- who just _happens_ to be my long lost sister -- from a dragon. Not quite the truth, but close enough." She snorted softly. "I can't believe how gaga he is over a girl he's only seen in photographs. Still, it's lucky for us that he seems to be as obsessed with her as he is with you."

Ranma frowned, but before he could respond, the screen door slid open, and Ryoga stepped through. Shampoo and Mousse followed close behind. They were holding hands... to Ranma's astonishment.

Ryoga's eyes widened as he saw his friend, still in cursed form, but standing upright for the first time in a week. "Uh... hi, Ranma," said Ryoga awkwardly. "Welcome back." He immediately wanted to kick himself as soon as the words came out of his mouth. _Welcome back?_ he thought. _Oh that's just great. I might as well have just said 'Welcome back from being a cat.' What kind of stupid thing is that to say after what he's been through?_

But Ranma only smiled slightly. "Thanks, Ryoga." He paused, as the shadow of memory flickered in his eyes briefly. "For everything."

Ryoga missed Ranma's tone completely, still squirming over his imagined faux pas. "Hey," he replied, trying to cover his discomfort, acting nonchalant and failing. "It was no problem. I mean, sure, all that reading was hard on the eyes--"

Mousse pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger. "You can say _that_ again," he murmured.

"-- and we may not have found a cure, but Shampoo did find a ton of wards in an old Chinese book that will help protect us when we go fight that dragon, so all that work wasn't a complete waste."

"Huh?" Ranma blinked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Nabiki cleared her throat. "Shampoo, Mousse, Ryoga and Doctor Tofu spent the week over at Kintaro-sensei's library, reading all of his ancient Chinese and Japanese documents, trying to find a cure for the Nekoken and the cold spell," she supplied helpfully.

Ranma's eyes widened as he looked at the weary trio, suddenly understanding why he couldn't remember seeing them all week. Ryoga and Mousse, two guys that usually acted like they were his worst enemies... trying to help him? And Shampoo....

Shampoo was looking at him, her violet eyes wide and flickering, her face ragged and exhausted...

"Wards not for dragon," she said softly, hesitantly as she looked into his girl's face. "Wards for demons."

Ranma met her gaze, and felt his expression harden as a rush of anger rose within him at the sight of her, the one who had caused him so much pain...

...and Shampoo flinched, seeing it in his face. She lowered her head in shame.

Mousse, who had been watching Ranma carefully, glanced down at Shampoo; saw her crumple under the venom of Ranma's gaze. And Ranma half expected Mousse to jerk his head up and attack him, shouting at him for making his darling Shampoo feel bad, or something along those lines...

Mousse looked up, but he didn't attack. Instead, he looked at Ranma through his thick glasses... almost pleadingly. He didn't move, and he didn't say a word, but his expression spoke for him as he looked down at Shampoo again sadly.

Ranma blinked, taken aback as he looked back and forth between Mousse and Shampoo. The tall Chinese boy was standing over her like a protector, and she was clasping his hand tightly, as if holding on to a lifeline.

Ranma took a deep breath and calmed himself. His anger, though it might be justified, would not accomplish anything, he realized. Shampoo was trying to help, after all. And she looked so tormented...

He winced as a memory surfaced; as he remembered Shampoo's expression from days previous, when she saw him for the first time, trapped with a girl body and a feline soul...

He remembered it all. Seeing the look on her face, the mixture of horror and anguish and guilt as she looked down at him, knowing that she was responsible for his plight... It was awful to remember that look on her face...

And even worse to remember the feeling of his own dimmed, transformed mind, which could not even comprehend the meaning of her expression...

But he understood now. And, strangely, he found that he felt better, knowing that Shampoo was sincere in her desire to fix what she had done to him... to Akane...

"What were you saying about the wards, Shampoo?" he asked. And there was no trace of anger, no hint of accusation in his mezzo-soprano voice.

Shampoo raised her head and looked at him as she heard... not forgiveness, but... a chance. A chance to redeem herself. She straightened slightly, and a spark of hope flickered in her clouded violet eyes. "Wards no good against Ancient One," she replied. "Just for demons that guard mountain. We no reach Ancient One unless we get past demons."

Ranma nodded approval. "Then I'm glad you found those wards," he said sincerely. "That will make this trip a lot easier."

Shampoo's countenance brightened slightly, but her eyes were wet. "I lead you to Ancient One. I do everything I can to... to break blood spell."

Ranma almost smiled. He looked around at the assembled group; at his friends. They looked at him, as if merely waiting for the word.

"Are you guys ready to go?" he asked.

"We just need to pack our tents," said Ryoga, indicating himself and Mousse. "Then we can leave any time."

Ranma reached down with a slender arm, grabbed Kuno by the back of his samurai uniform, hauled the unconscious young man to his feet, then slung him awkwardly over his petite shoulder.

He brushed his red hair from his eyes with his free hand. "Then let's go to China," he said.

--------------------

Outside in the Tendo yard, where two tents were pitched by the koi pond, a small, blurring shadow moved silently in the gray morning fog. There was the slightest rustle as it disappeared through the open flap of the larger of the two tents... and the slightest rustle as it emerged a few moments later, cackling softly as it bounded away...

The patio door slid open a moment later, and Ryoga and Mousse stepped out. Mousse paused a moment, and cocked his head.

"What's wrong?" asked Ryoga.

Mousse frowned. "Did you... hear something just now?"

Ryoga listened a moment, then shook his head. "Nothing unusual. Why?"

The tall, bespectacled Chinese boy looked troubled for a moment, but then he shrugged it off. "I guess it was nothing," he said, then walked over to the larger tent to pack it up for the trip.

--------------------

Out of the blissful oblivion of unconsciousness... came throbbing pain... the sound of voices, murmuring soft... and the feel of cool fingers touching her forehead lightly...

Akane groaned softly. Her shoulder hurt, and her thigh was shooting sharp messages of pain along her nerve endings...

_I'm alive_, she realized with genuine surprise. She thought for sure that when the blackness claimed her, after sustaining such serious injury from the Shadowcat demon, that she was as good as dead. Maybe she was. But surely, if she were dead, she wouldn't be feeling pain... would she?

"She's still running a slight fever..."

"Well, that's only to be expected, mistress..."

The voices sounded... familiar. Sluggishly, reluctantly, Akane opened her eyes to see where she was, to see whose hand rested on her forehead...

"Ah... Akane, you are awake at last." The Snow Woman smiled down at her, her frost blue eyes filling with icy tears.

And Akane felt her stomach clench in horror and fury as she found herself looking into the face she had hoped she would never see again. Only, the Snow Woman's white, bloodless face was not as flawless as she remembered. The unearthly white skin was riddled with tiny blackened cracks. Still, it was the face of the creature who had cast the cold spell on Ranma and then delivered him up to the Shadowcat demon; the Shadowcat demon that had gone on to kill Masakazu... and that had nearly killed her...

"You!" Akane's voice was a dry rasp; her throat felt like sandpaper. She tried to sit up, to push herself away, but searing pain tore through her shoulder and leg, making her gasp and collapse back to the white futon on which she'd been laying, tears of agony filling her eyes. "Dammit," she whispered. It hurt so bad. She had to focus over the pain, she had to get away...

"Akane, please!" The Snow Woman's voice was anxious. "Your wounds haven't healed completely, you must rest..." And she reached out a hand to gently restrain the struggling girl.

Akane's head snapped up, her brown eyes blazing in spite of the pain flaring through her body. "Don't you _touch_ me, you witch!" she hissed through clenched teeth.

The Snow Woman's eyes widened, stunned, and her hand fell to her side. "But... Akane..."

Akane's face was filled with unbridled fury and contempt. "I don't know how I got here," she said, her voice shaking with pain as she weakly pushed herself further away from the Snow Woman, "but I'm leaving as soon as possible."

The Snow Woman's cracked, marred face went slack with shock. "But... you came back..."

"If you think for one minute that I'm staying with the _demon_ who betrayed me," Akane snarled, "who handed Ranma over to the Shadowcat, you're crazier than I thought!"

The Snow Woman blinked. _Demon..?_ The hate in Akane's gaze was unbearable. It pierced through her just as surely and more deadly than the sharpest blade. She felt her cold heart inside her chest contract in horrified realization. _She knows what I did to Ranma... How does she..?_

And that realization was followed closely by another. The Snow Woman's eyes widened. _She... still remembers Ranma. The Kami Plane's spell of Forgetfulness has failed..._

_It cannot be. I... have failed? Everything for nothing..._

Trembling, the Snow Woman stood, her silken robes flowing around her slender form. "Akane." Her voice broke as she looked down at the girl; the girl she thought of as a daughter, the girl for whose return she'd waited patiently, the girl who glared up at her in disgust even as she shook from the pain of her wounds...

Akane had changed greatly in two and a half years. But then, most mortals do. As Akane struggled to push herself into an upright position, in spite of the fact that her shoulder wound was beginning to bleed through her bandages, seeping through the white of her nightgown, the Snow Woman could see that her blue-black hair fell nearly to her waist. She had grown a few centimeters. And, in the girl's brown eyes, beyond the contempt, and beyond the tears of pain... she could see new wisdom there, gained through the suffering she had experienced in her travels throughout the Kami Plane. She had suffered so much, all to break the blood spell. All for the sake of that boy Ranma...

She could not bear the hate in Akane's eyes.

"I... will not keep you here, Akane." The Snow Woman's voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "I could not if I wanted to. But... you are welcome to stay until you are fully healed. If you decide to stay, Kazuo will tend to your needs. I will not intrude upon you further." And so saying, she turned and quietly left the room.

Akane stared after her, blinking in surprise. _This has got to be a trick_, she thought.

She heard a heavy sigh behind her.

Focusing over the pain, and turning her head carefully, she saw Kazuo. The little blue-skinned ice sprite was kneeling next to a tray covered with clean bandages and assorted, colorful jars. He was looking at her sadly.

"You are bleeding," he said. "You had better lie down."

Akane looked down, and saw that she was indeed bleeding; that her blood had soaked through her bandage and was now staining her white nightgown. When she looked up again at Kazuo, he sighed again. "You needn't worry; she won't return. As she said, while you remain, she will not trouble you."

Akane snorted softly. "Like I have any reason to believe anything she says." She winced and gasped slightly as the pain in her shoulder became unbearable, and shifted in her tensed position. She was in pain, she was angry... and she was scared. As she focused, she understood the messages her body was sending her. A feeling of light-headedness and nausea flooded through her, and threatened to break her concentration. She knew without looking that her torn-up leg wouldn't support her weight... There was no way she could walk out of here under her own power. Not yet, at least.

But how had she even come to the Snow Woman's realm? Surely the Snow Woman hadn't ventured into the Gaki domain to rescue her. She knew that the Snow Woman never left her domain, except to cross over into the mortal realm...

The last thing she remembered was defeating the Shadowcat, crawling across the blood-slick floor in search of the missing piece of comb... feeling the cold tendrils of death seep into her body as her lifeblood spilled from her wounds...

Susa-no-o's comb...

Akane reached back with her good arm and felt at the crown of her head. The comb wasn't there. Her hair flowed loosely past her shoulders and down her back, unbound from its usual French braid...

Her eyes widened in panic. "Where..?!"

"Are you looking for this?" She looked over at Kazuo. He held the comb in his hand, the two pieces still bound together with a strip of blood-stained cloth. Akane narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she held out her shaking hand, half expecting him to pull it out of reach...

Kazuo handed it to her. "Really, mistress Akane," he said with a touch of exasperation. "I have no reason to keep it from you. And you really should lie down before you fall down."

Akane wasn't listening. She took the comb and plunged it into her thick hair. **Susa-no-o!** she called mentally. **What's going on? Why am I in the Snow Woman's domain?**

There was no answer. She couldn't feel his presence at all.

**Answer me, dammit! I know you can hear me!**

But she didn't know any such thing. And, as the silence echoed in her mind, she began to realize with a terrible sinking feeling that she was stuck. Trapped in the realm of the person who had betrayed and manipulated her... and who had done the worst thing possible to Ranma, trapping him in cursed form, then delivering him as a gift to the Shadowcat demon...

A wave of dizziness swept over her, disrupting her focus, allowing the pain of her wounds to spike through her consciousness. She sank down to the futon, moaning.

"There, what did I tell you? And now I'm going to have to change that bandage again."

Akane closed her eyes briefly to regain her focus, breathing deeply, but not too deeply because of the searing pain in her shoulder. "Why are you the one taking care of me?" she asked, wheezing slightly. "I know you can't stand me. Why not one of the other servants?"

"They all left," said Kazuo shortly. He reached over to unbutton the front of her nightgown.

Akane's eyes widened, and she grabbed his wrist. "What do you think you're doing, you pervert?" she yelled.

Kazuo favored her with a half-lidded glare. "I've been changing your bandages all week," he said coldly.

Akane blinked, still clenching Kazuo's wrist. _I've been in the Snow Woman's domain... for a whole week? And I only now regained consciousness?_ The thought alarmed her. She had been in the hands of the enemy, utterly helpless... And if they had used any of the healing salves she had used frequently during her previous stay, she should have recovered a lot sooner...

Unless...

She felt the weakness throughout her body, the searing pain that, even now ate away at her concentration... Just how close to death had she come?

When she still didn't let go of his wrist, Kazuo reached down with his free hand and grabbed the blanket, which she had kicked away in her earlier struggles, and pulled it up over her chest. "You can cover yourself with this, if you insist on propagating an overblown sense of modesty," he said. "But if you do not allow me to change your bandages, you will slow down your recovery, and then you'll be stuck here even longer."

Akane glared at the little ice sprite, but she let go of his wrist. She clutched the blanket to her chest with her good hand as Kazuo reached over, undid the top buttons of her nightgown and pulled the cloth back, leaving the left shoulder and its bloody bandages exposed. He then carefully removed the bandages from her shoulder. Akane gasped in pain, as the bandage stuck to the wound in places.

She turned her head and looked down at the wound. She could clearly see four parallel gashes where the power of the Shadowcat's Nekoken had grazed her. She realized that Kazuo must have been using the healing salve that she and Masakazu had often used, because the edges of the wound were almost completely healed, the edges of skin melding together leaving no sign that the wounds had extended as far as they had except for the thin, pink ribbon of scar tissue that would be hers forever. Even so, in spite of the rapid healing, the widest, deepest parts of the wounds were still scabbing. Her exertions had reopened three of the four gashes.

As she turned her head, looking back up at the crystalline ceiling, Kazuo's statement penetrated her pain-fogged mind. "They all left? All of the other servants?" she asked. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what you think I mean." Kazuo carefully applied the healing salve to the wounds. Akane felt the numbing agents seep immediately into her flesh, easing the pain, and she relaxed slightly.

"Why?" she asked. "Why did everyone leave?"

"I would think that you of all people would know," Kazuo replied. "You obviously are aware of what Mistress Yuki-onna did right after you left. How she summoned that... dreadful Shadowcat demon."

Akane blinked in realization, even as she felt a thick drowsiness fog her mind. Kazuo must have used the strong stuff. But then that was only natural, considering the nature of her injuries. "They left because she summoned the demon? You mean... she's been alone for the past two and a half years?"

"Well, I stayed with her, of course." Kazuo placed a fresh, clean bandage over Akane's bare shoulder.

"Why did you stay? I mean, it sounds like you weren't too thrilled about her summoning the Shadowcat either."

"Of course not. Consorting with demons is..." Kazuo frowned. "It was... beneath her."

"Beneath her?!" Akane was incredulous, even as she felt sleep tugging at her consciousness. "It was evil!"

"That too."

"Then why did you stay?"

Kazuo blinked, and his hard expression turned sad once again. "Because... even though her actions were evil, I understood... I understand her. I've been with her longer than any of the others. I knew she did it out of love... for you."

"Love?" Akane laughed, short and derisive, yet tired as she fought the heaviness suddenly weighing down her eyelids. "She doesn't know the meaning of the word 'love.' If she did, she would never have summoned the Shadowcat in the first place. She would never have laughed, watching through her mirror as Ranma suffered. She... never would have betrayed me..." Her voice trailed off, and, in spite of herself, her eyes slipped shut. "She wouldn't... have betrayed me..."

Kazuo watched as Akane fell into the healing sleep. His hard expression softened to one of sadness.

"No," he whispered. "I suppose not."

--------------------

_...doesn't know the meaning of the word 'love'..._

Yuki-onna stood in front of her mirror. It was still covered by the thick cloth she had thrown over it in a violent fit of grief and guilt over two and a half years ago, after peering into the mortal plane to see what was causing the horrible feeling of loss that touched her, that penetrated her to the bone...

And, as she peered into her mirror, she had watched in horror as Masakazu, her dear, ancient friend, was murdered by the very demon she had loosed on the mortal plane. The demon she had sent through that very mirror; the demon she had granted access to the mortal realm it never would have had otherwise, all so that she could see the boy Ranma vanquished, so that Akane would return to her...

She had covered her mirror then, weeping and shuddering, vowing that she would never look into it again...

But a covered mirror couldn't hide the terrible images that were now permanently engraved into her mind's eye.

Yuki-onna closed her eyes. What a farce. As if covering her mirror could change the truth.

How could she have deceived herself so completely? And Masakazu had even tried to warn her.

_...doesn't know the meaning..._

Yuki-onna trembled. Opening her eyes, she reached out with one hand and slowly pulled the cloth from the mirror.

Her eyes widened as she saw herself, her own reflection. One slender white hand stole up to her cheek. _Ah, will these cracks never heal?_

Almost of their own volition, her hands went out to the mirror, her fingers tracing patterns of frost onto its cold silver surface.

Then, she breathed.

The frost of her breath swirled on the mirror's surface, clearing moments later to form an image...

Wilderness. Mountains. A small group of people, each bearing a large backpack, hiking up a strenuous mountain pass, their dark silhouettes outlined by a fiery sunset. She focused on them, on the leader...

It was Ranma, of course. Still in his cursed female form, because of her cold spell. But he was no longer in the Nekoken. He had escaped the Shadowcat's influence somehow, and was now on his way to try and break the blood spell.

She suspected she knew how he had escaped. After all, the source of the terrible, perfectly parallel wounds on Akane's shoulder and thigh was not too hard to imagine.

_Ah, it gets worse and worse. Akane, I never wanted to hurt you... I loved you like a daughter._

Akane's voice echoed in her mind.

_...doesn't know the meaning of the word..._

A low sob escaped Yuki-onna's throat, and she pressed her forehead against the mirror, closing her eyes. The frost on the surface swirled, and the image of Ranma hiking through the Chinese wilderness was lost.

The frost continued to move, almost with a life of its own, and when a new image finally formed, it was one quite different from any that had ever appeared on the mirror's surface before...

-----------

Yuki-onna stood in quiet distress outside the small cottage, the slight winter wind caressing her smooth face; thick, fluffy flakes of snow falling gently from the night sky in the muffled silence of her storm. The wind entwined her long mane of shimmering white hair around her slender form as she pressed herself against the trunk of a leafless cherry tree, seeking comfort from the strange feelings that filled her, that drew her, trembling, to this mortal abode.

The snow and the bright, sharp icicles that hung from the bare branches of the cherry tree created a different foliage; alien, yet beautiful and sparkling in the moonlight. Yuki-onna peered around the tree, her frost-blue eyes filled with a mingling of caution and longing as she gazed at the candle-light flickering through the rice-paper window of the one-room house; at the smoke curling from the chimney, reaching up into the night.

After an eternity of waiting, the single door opened, and warm yellow light spilled out into the cool blues of shadowed snow. Yuki-onna felt her breath catch in her throat, and she shrank against the concealing trunk of the cherry tree as a figure emerged from the doorway.

The young man didn't pause, didn't notice her at all. He tromped out into the fresh snow towards a sturdy wood shed, whistling an off-key tune, oblivious to the eyes that once again peeked cautiously, almost timidly from around the cherry tree. He loaded his strong arms with firewood, stacking it up to his chin, enough to keep him warm throughout the night, and walked back towards the cottage.

Yuki-onna watched him silently from her hiding place, her gaze tracing over the strong lines of his face, the rakish crop of dark, unruly hair hanging over eyes that were the deep warm blue of the summer sea...

Her heart ached strangely when the young man disappeared inside his house, closing the door behind him against the winter night.

**So _he_ is the one you spared. I must say, he is a handsome fellow, for a mortal.**

Yuki-onna startled at the mental voice inside her head, and turned to see...

**Masakazu!** Her own mental response was filled more with embarrassment than anger. **How dare you follow me here?!**

The tengu's black eyes glittered with silent laughter. **With the way you've been moping about your domain the past few weeks, how could I resist? I had to see for myself the mortal man who has managed to melt your heart of ice, Yuki-chan.**

She turned away from him, trying to conceal the flustered expression on her face, knowing that it did no good to hide it from the tengu. **You are a snoop, Masakazu,** she replied testily. **You should keep that pointed beak of yours out of other people's business.**

**But, my dear friend, your business _is_ my business. Especially when it concerns something as serious as the course of action you are considering.**

Yuki-onna glanced at him and frowned slightly. **I do wish you would stop plucking my thoughts from my head like so many grapes from a vine. Have you no sense of privacy?**

**None at all, my dear.** Masakazu blinked mischievously. **You should know that by now. Besides, your thoughts make such excellent wine.**

Yuki-onna turned from the tengu and sighed, leaning against the trunk of the cherry tree, the frost of her breath spreading a crystal pattern over the smooth bark as she looked towards the candle-lit window. **Then tell me, oh wise one.** Her mental voice was almost wistful, even in its wryness. **What should I do about... this young man? In all my existence, I have never encountered one such as he, whose face and soul could move me to mercy and cause me to forsake my duties as Death's handmaiden. Why should these hands, that have frozen the blood of so many, hesitate to touch this one mortal?**

The tengu cocked his head at her in silence for a moment, his piercing eyes seeming to gaze right through her as he carefully considered his response. **It seems to me,** he said at last, **that your time among mortals has not left you untouched by their ways.** His mental voice was a soft touch in her mind, almost as if he were speaking more to himself than to her. **Could it be that you actually... love this young man?**

Yuki-onna laughed lightly, a sound like chiming crystal, yet her delicate white hands fluttered nervously at her sides. **Love?** she responded, raising a slender white eyebrow at the tengu. **I know nothing of it. These mortals, they are so full of life, and love is at the root of it all. What am I to them? Bringer of cold, wintery death. I kill the land, bury it in a sepulcher of white, and those who linger unprotected in my domain are buried as well.**

A faint tinge of anxiety flickered across her smooth features, belying the nonchalance of her tone. **I kill love.** Her smile faltered, crumbled as her gaze wandered over to the tiny cottage. **And I know nothing of it.**

**But you want to know.**

"Yes," she whispered.

Tengu and Snow Woman stood in the gently falling snow, gazing at the warm little house, built solid and firm against the elements.

**Then the decision is made.** Masakazu's voice in her head was quiet and resigned. **I know that, even now, the first part of your spell is in place, sealed from the time you bound the mortal with an oath that he never speak a word of how you came to him in the storm...**

Yuki-onna turned to look at her ancient friend. The tengu gazed up at her, his bird-like expression unreadable. "All that remains is your willingness to embrace the suffering," he said aloud softly. "For you _will_ suffer if you become mortal. And suffering, like joy, is intertwined with love. It seems, from my observation, that you cannot have one without the other."

Yuki-onna blinked.

Embrace the suffering...

She knew all too well that mortals suffered. Was it worth it? To sacrifice everything that she was just to know what they knew, to finally understand the light of knowledge that flickered in their eyes even as their breath ceased and their souls slipped out from under her icy fingers...

To be mortal... and to know love. To see love in the summer sea-blue eyes of the man who had looked upon her supernatural countenance in terror as she froze his sleeping elderly companion... terror that turned to amazement and relief and wonder in his young, handsome face as she looked into his eyes and found herself unwilling to inflict him with the cold of her touch...

----------------------

"Um... hello."

Her voice shook, and she immediately wished she could take back the simple words, wished she could fade into the spring forest and never return to this place until the snow buried it once again, wished she could rewind time and erase her clumsy entrance. What was she thinking? What made her so sure she could just walk up to him and introduce herself out of the blue? She knew nothing of mortal ways! What was she even doing here?! He probably wouldn't want anything to do with her. Oh, why hadn't she stayed in her domain where she belonged? Her fingers entwined nervously around the rough cloth of her peasant dress, and she felt heat rise in her face; an unsettling, unfamiliar sensation that seemed connected with the fluttering feeling in her stomach...

The young man finished his swing, the ax splitting the log neatly in two, and looked up at her, surprised. Of course he was surprised. Here he was in the middle of a forest, a good five miles from the village, and this strange woman appears out of nowhere while he's chopping wood...

His blue eyes widened as he looked at her, and she noticed that his startled gaze traveled from her face down to her feet and back up again, pausing noticeably in between. A pink flush rose to his cheeks as he suddenly swallowed hard and looked directly into her face. He lowered the ax and brushed his dark, damp bangs from his forehead with one hand, then reached down to smooth his rough tunic. "Uhh... H-hello," he stuttered. \

He seemed nervous. Could it be that he recognized her? Her eyes were the same frost blue, but her skin, though pale, was no longer white due to the blood that now coursed through her veins. She was shorter by a few hand-spans, and her long thick hair was lustrous black instead of shimmering white. The simple rough peasant dress she wore bore no resemblance to the flowing silk robes of her former office.

If he recognized her... what would she do? The very foundation of the spell of her mortality was completely dependent on the power of the oath this young man took when she spared his life. But... if he suspected who she was, surely he would fear her, not love her... and if he didn't love her, the spell would be incomplete. It would deteriorate, and she would become as she once was, no closer to understanding the strange, compelling beauty of humanity and the unfamiliar feelings this young man evoked in her...

"Who are you?" he asked suddenly. "I... I mean what are you doing out here, so far from the village? That is, if you're from the village... Are you lost?" The young man looked slightly panicky as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

Yuki-onna looked up at him, relief flooding through her. He didn't recognize her. He thought she was lost, and that was just as good as thinking she was human. Then why had her appearance sent him into stuttering fear?

"I was out walking," she said, smiling, trying to set him at ease, though she didn't understand his apprehension. "I heard the sound of your ax ringing through the wood, and I followed it."

"Oh." The young man relaxed only slightly, and he returned her smile hesitantly. He ran his fingers nervously through his unruly mop of dark hair.

"You must be the village wood cutter."

"Y-yes, I am." He stared at her.

Moments passed in uncomfortable silence, and Yuki-onna felt her heart sink. She was doing this all wrong, she had no idea what to do or say next. And the young man didn't seem to want to talk to her. She had interrupted his work, and now he was waiting for her to go away so he could return to it. Her expression saddened as she felt her dreams slipping away...

"You must be very busy. I'm sorry I bothered you," she said quietly. And she turned to leave.

"No, wait!" His voice, still slightly panicked, made her turn around. A look of dismay was etched across his features. "I... I'm sorry for being rude, it's just that I don't get many visitors out here... especially... girls... and I've never seen you in the village, because I'm sure I'd remember you..." He trailed off and swallowed hard. Then, to her surprise, he straightened and bowed deeply. "I'm sorry... Please... you're not bothering me. You don't have to go... unless you want to..."

Yuki-onna felt a warm smile spreading across her face, and she felt a light, tingly sensation building in her chest. "If you don't mind..."

"I don't! I mean..." The young man flushed pink again, and, to her astonishment, Yuki-onna found herself laughing; an unfamiliar, happy sound. It was unlike anything she had ever done, ever felt.

And it was wonderful.

The young man looked at her a moment in amazement. Then a sheepish smile crept onto his face, and he began to chuckle softly, joining in with her buoyant laughter. "Forgive me," he said, "for not introducing myself properly. My name is Shin."

"And my name," said the Snow Woman, smiling happily, "is Yuki."

Shin looked into her face with his summer sea-blue eyes. "What a beautiful name..."

---------------

"Masakazu, my dear friend, you came." Yuki walked carefully from the doorway of the little house towards the edge of the clearing, holding a tiny bundle to her breast.

The tengu stepped out of the shadows of the blossoming cherry tree, his black eyes gleaming in the sunlight. **And how could I stay away, when I could feel your joy all the way to the Kami Plane?** He leaned over and Yuki held the bundle out for him to see. **Ah, she is a beautiful child. She has your eyes.**

Yuki smiled radiantly. "The day I married Shin, I thought I could not be happier, and yet when she was born, I felt... I don't know how to describe it. Like I wanted to weep all the tears in the world, only without grief. I felt my heart would burst with the feeling."

Masakazu nodded. **I understand.**

She looked down into the sleepy face of her infant daughter, her eyes wet and shimmering. "How can you understand, Masakazu, when I cannot comprehend it myself? Shin... and now my... my daughter..."

Warm tears began to slip down her face, and even as she smiled, something akin to pain flickered in her eyes. "Is this how mortals feel with love?" she said softly. "How can they bear it? It's such a... powerful, terrible emotion. And yet I... I feel as if I would rather die than not have this feeling." She glanced briefly at the tengu in sincere confusion. "How did I ever exist without it?"

The tengu didn't answer. But a troubled expression glimmered in his eyes as he watched the former Eternal cradling her child.

**Your husband returns,** he said after a moment. **I must leave.**

Yuki nodded distractedly, but smiled.

Masakazu tilted his head, as if listening, and a spark lit in his eyes. **He seems very excited,** he said, amused. **He is bringing you a gift.**

Yuki looked up at the tengu in mock dismay. "And now you've spoiled the surprise," she said teasingly. "Be off with you."

Masakazu chuckled and bowed. **Until next time, my friend.** And he disappeared in a blur of movement.

Shin emerged from the forest edge into the little clearing a few moments later, carrying a large, awkward bundle wrapped in rough cloth in his arms. He saw Yuki standing under the cherry tree, the sun casting a dappling pattern of light and shadow across her face, and his expression lit up with a smile tinged with anxiousness.

"Yuki, you shouldn't be out walking so soon, it's only been two days! You should be resting."

Yuki smiled as her husband quickly set his bundle down and came to her, wrapping his arms protectively around her slender form, his gaze torn between his wife and the infant she carried in her arms.

"I'm fine, Shin," she said gently, leaning her head on his chest. "Besides, the sun was so warm today, and the cherry blossoms so fragrant, I wanted bring the baby outside to enjoy it."

Shin nodded acceptance, enjoying the feel of his beautiful, sweet wife and daughter, his family, in his arms. Then, he released them and stepped back, grinning like an child on his birthday. "I made something for you," he said, "for the baby."

"What is it?" asked Yuki, smiling at his excitement.

He knelt down and carefully unwrapped his large bundle. Inside was a cradle, hewn carefully from a single piece of wood, intricately carved with flowers and birds. A long-tailed phoenix adorned the headboard.

"Oh," said Yuki, unable to say anything else, amazed again at the wondrous ache that filled her.

"Do you like it?" Shin ran one hand through his dark tousled hair and looked at her, his blue eyes anxious. "I finished it this morning. I've been working on it since we found out. The designs took the longest, I've never really done much carving work..."

"It's beautiful, Shin," she whispered. "It's perfect."

The anxiety melted from Shin's face, and he beamed. He stood and held her, kissing her gently on the forehead and smoothing her silky black hair from her face softly with his calloused fingers.

"Then I am happy," he said simply. And she knew that his statement meant more than just the cradle, and her heart swelled.

"I love you, Shin."

-------------

The snow fell softly outside, blanketing the twilight forest in white, tinged orange from the setting sun. Yuki sat next to the fire, watching the stew bubbling in the pot as she busily, almost unconsciously hand sewed a lining of soft white rabbit fur onto smooth tanned leather. The needle seemed to fly in her slender hands, a single strong thread trailing behind the tiny silver dagger as it pierced leather and fur, binding the two together with perfect precision.

The door flew open, and two giggling, snow-covered bundles of cloth and fur came tumbling through the doorway. The smaller one stood and, without prelude, ran straight for Yuki, who barely had enough time to set her sewing aside to catch the little girl in her arms.

"Mommy, you should see what we made!"

"Haru, you're getting snow all over Mother. You'll get her sewing wet." The older girl glared at her younger sister as she carefully dusted the snow from her own clothing.

"It's all right, Natsu-chan, no harm done." Yuki smiled and stood, holding the little girl in her arms. "What did you make, Haru-chan?"

The little girl laughed as Yuki set her down by the door and patiently began to unbundle her winter clothing. "Me an' Natsu made a snow woman," she said.

Yuki froze a moment, her eyes widening slightly, before continuing to unwrap her youngest daughter. "Did you really," she said hesitantly.

"You should see it, Mother," said Natsu excitedly, forgetting for a moment that she was the mature older sister. "We packed the snow tight and solid, just like you showed us, and she's bigger than me!" She held her hand above her head to show how tall her creation was. "Will you come see?"

"It's getting dark out," said Yuki distractedly. "Perhaps tomorrow."

Natsu looked crestfallen, and Yuki smiled, reaching out to smooth her elder daughter's dark hair. "It won't melt overnight," she said soothingly. "I'll look at your snow sculpture in the morning."

"All right, Mother." Natsu draped her wet clothing over a railing by the fire and sniffed at the boiling pot. "Mmmm. It smells good, Mother."

"We'll have supper as soon as your Father gets home." Yuki draped Haru's wet clothing next to Natsu's, and bustled the little girl over to her older sister. "In the meantime, change into your nightclothes, girls."

"Yes, Mommy."

"Yes, Mother."

Shin returned home shortly, his cheeks flushed red from the cold. As he stepped through the doorway, shaking snow from his hair, Yuki greeted him in her special customary manner. Shin flushed deeper from the pleasure of his wife's not-so-discreet welcome, noting briefly that the girls were safely behind the door of the larger room he had added to their small house. Their muffled giggles as they prepared for bed seeped through the wooden walls.

"If only I had known that this small measure of privacy would allow you to greet me this way each day," he said, a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes as he wrapped his arms around her, "I would have built that extra room long ago."

Yuki laughed, and 'welcomed' her husband again.

Later, when the girls were asleep, the couple sat in warm silence by the fading embers of the fire. Yuki sat, humming softly as she sewed, occasionally glancing up to find Shin paused in his own whittling work, looking at her with a soft smile on his face.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked when she looked up to find him staring at her again.

"You," he said.

Yuki smiled and looked back at her sewing to hide the blush that came so easily to her pale cheeks.

Shin smiled gently at her response. "It's strange," he said, his gaze growing distant and thoughtful. "Sometimes, when the firelight is low, and I look at you, I am reminded..."

He trailed off, and Yuki raised her head. "Of what?" she asked.

Shin's blue eyes remained unfocused for a moment, but then he blinked, shook his head, and looked down at the doll he was carving. "Nothing," he said. "A dream I had long ago."

"Tell me of it," said Yuki as she resumed her careful sewing. "You know how I enjoy hearing you tell of your dreams."

Shin sighed, and laughed a little. "Oh, it was so long ago, years before I met you. Sometimes I think it fades from my memory completely." He looked up at her contemplatively. "Yet it's strange how clearly I remember it, especially on nights like this, when the snow is falling... and I see you in the firelight..."

"Mm?" Yuki tied a knot in the thread she was sewing with and bit it off carefully with her teeth, holding up the little coat a moment later to admire her handiwork. "What was it? Now I'm curious."\

His gaze became distant as he stared into the dying fire. "Well, it was back when I was apprenticed to the old woodcutter, Mitaga. It was a bitter cold winter, and firewood was scarce. Mitaga and I had to go searching for a new cutting ground." Shin's smile faded, and a troubled expression clouded his eyes. "We were caught in a terrible storm. The snow was so heavy and thick that we lost our way. After wandering for what seemed like hours, with the cold seeping through our coverings and into our skin and joints, we finally found an old abandoned hovel, and we took shelter inside to wait out the blizzard. It kept out the storm, but it couldn't keep out the cold..."

Yuki's hands went still. She looked up from her sewing slowly, a hint of horror flickering in her frost-blue eyes as she realized...

"It was cold... so cold..." Shin's voice was soft and low, his gaze turned inward as he relived the memory. "We took turns telling each other stories to try and keep ourselves awake, afraid of falling asleep... It was no use. Mitaga was an old man, and he closed his eyes in spite of my efforts to keep him awake. But then, I think I must have fallen asleep too... for I dreamed..."

No, said Yuki, but the pleading, terrified word was voiceless, and Shin did not see her. Her hands felt numb, and her vision darkened at the edges as her heart throbbed painfully in her ears... She wanted to jump up and run to him, to tell him to cease and not speak the words, but she couldn't move, couldn't cry out... It had already begun...

"In my dream, the storm raging outside quieted. The door to the hovel opened, and... a woman stood in the doorway. Her skin and hair were white as the snow around her, and she was tall and beautiful in a way that I knew immediately she could not be human..."

_No..._ Helpless tears filled Yuki's eyes, slipping down her cheeks, her face contorting in grief as she felt the warm rivulets turn suddenly cold against her skin...

"...She glided towards us without moving her feet. She didn't spare me a glance, but knelt down next to Mitaga and spread her white hands against the old man's chest. Soon, his skin was the blue of frozen death."

Yuki felt light-headed as the blood fell from her face. But no, it wasn't falling. It was leaving her all together, disappearing and leaving her hollow. The cold tears were freezing against her white face...

"Then she turned to me..." Shin took a deep breath, still staring at the fading embers of fire. "I wish I could describe the look on her face. I thought for a moment that she would... would kill me as well, but she just knelt there and stared at me. Even if I wanted to run, I couldn't have... My joints were too frozen, I could already see the frost on my eyelashes, on the skin of my cheeks... All that remained was her touch. I was terrified, and I prepared myself to die...."

The freezing tears turned to ice, falling from Yuki's chin in shining shards...

"And then..." A flicker of wonder worked its way across Shin's face. "...her cold expression softened, and she almost smiled. She reached out and touched my face with the tips of her fingers, but instead of freezing me, I felt the cold being drawn out of me, I felt my limbs thawing, the life flooding back into them... Then she stood and spoke in a voice like wind on crystal..."

Shin's clouded blue eyes lit with belated realization as he gazed into the burning coals. "She... made me promise that I would tell no one of how she came to me, and yet spared my life." Shin closed his eyes against the heat emanating from the fireplace.

"Ah..." he said quietly. "I had forgotten."

Yuki trembled in despair as her husband's unthinking words shattered the last carefully crafted piece of her spell of mortality. She felt herself shift and change, her humanity sloughing from her like an old skin.

"And then she was gone, as silently as she came..." Shin opened his eyes. "I think I woke up then, for it was suddenly morning. The old man had frozen to death during the night, and I was left with nothing but the strange dream..."

Silence.

"Shin..."

Now, the damage done, she was free to whisper his name with her icy breath. Shin tore his gaze away from the embers, from the memory, and turned to her, shivering.

His eyes widened as he saw her, tall and shimmering white, standing where only moments before, a petite mortal woman with flushed cheeks and thick black hair sat patiently sewing winter clothing for her precious daughters.

"Not a dream," she whispered hoarsely, tears of ice brimming in her frost-blue eyes and slipping down her face. "Not a dream."

The doll and carving knife fell from Shin's limp hands. "Yuki..?" His face filled with horrified realization.

Yuki-onna clenched her white fists in grief and anger as a cry of despair escaped her throat. "You promised..." she said softly. "You promised you would never tell... You swore an oath... The power of your oath bound me here, allowed me to be with you, to be your wife..."

Shin paled and reached out a trembling hand. "Yuki..."

Yuki-onna turned from him sharply, and found herself facing the wall behind which her daughters slept. She shuddered suddenly, and a thin, keening wail rose from her throat. "Oh, my little ones..." she sobbed. "I've lost you..!" She turned back to Shin, her smooth white face twisted in a rictus of grief. "I've lost you all."

Shin's mind was numb, his senses reeling. He longed to speak, to take back the words spoken in forgetfulness that had undone his world, but it was too late, and a fear and grief entirely unrelated to his wife's true supernatural nature filled his soul with her words.

"You betrayed me," she said brokenly, looking up to see his stricken face. "You betrayed your solemn oath. And now I am forced to leave."

_Leave..._ Shin desperately tried to stand, but found himself frozen, unable to move his limbs. "No..." he said.

A shimmering portal opened up behind the Snow Woman, and she backed towards it slowly, feeling the pull of the Kami Plane on the other side. "Raise my children well, Shin." Her face was frighteningly serene, in spite of the bright, crystalline tears that continued to fall from her eyes unabated. "I swear to you that if harm comes to them throughout their lives, I will come to you in the storm. And I will not hesitate to complete what I could not finish so long ago."

And as the portal swallowed her up, she saw him wrench himself from his chair in a supreme effort of will against her fading spell and stumble towards her, his arms outstretched, his summer-sea blue eyes filled with unspeakable grief...

"Yuki..."

She heard his voice even as the mortal world faded from her.

"Don't leave me..."

--------------------

_Don't leave me..._

As the image faded from the mirror's surface, Yuki-onna felt tears of ice slipping down her face once again.

"Oh Shin..."

Though her voice was a whisper, it was penetrating, as if trying to reach back across the centuries, across the planes, to reach the ears and heart of a long-dead mortal man.

"Shin, my beloved husband. Forgive me..."

--------------------

Ranma sat on a rock next to the blazing campfire and threw another heavy log into the flames, sending sparks and ash floating up into the night sky. He held his hands, palms outward, toward the fire.

Nothing. The fire's warmth couldn't reach him.

He sighed, and glanced at the small tents that were pitched around him, where his friends lay sleeping soundly. Too bad they weren't sleeping _soundlessly_. He could hear Kuno's snores, almost unmuffled by the heavy material of his tent.

He almost smiled. At least Kuno's snores were better than listening to him rant on and on, bewailing the melancholy attitude of his 'beloved pigtailed goddess.' Ranma had been forced to put up with Kuno's constant lame and unwanted attempts to comfort him, thinking that he was jealous, bewitched, etc. The kendoist rambled non stop, saying that, though they were going to rescue the beautiful, mysterious Akane Tendo from the clutches of an evil dragon, 'she' should not fear that his love and devotion for 'her' were any less.

Ranma snorted softly. _If only,_ he thought. And if that weren't enough, Kuno had somehow gotten it into his fool head that he and Ryoga...

Ranma shuddered, not wanting to think about that. Every time Kuno opened his mouth, Ranma ached to silence him with a swift kick to the face. But if Kuno was unconscious, that meant that someone would have to carry him, and that was a chore Ranma didn't want to inflict either on himself or anyone else.

Well, at least Kuno's snores didn't seem to bother the others. Less than two days into their journey, and they were completely worn out from exhaustion, having hiked through primitive virgin forests and over mountains that most of the world didn't even know existed.

Ranma stood, dusting off his hands, and slowly walked up the side of the steep hill next to the camp site. When he was far outside the ring of warmth and light cast by the campfire, he looked up into the clear night sky. His arms were straight at his sides, in spite of the cold mountain wind that tugged at the loose material of his shirt and pants, that whipped silken strands of red hair about his face and rose goose bumps on the skin of his slender arms. He didn't like the feel of folding his arms across his chest, even for the sake of generating his own warmth, since it only reminded him that he was stuck in his cursed female body.

It had been a while since he'd seen so many stars. He'd nearly forgotten how beautiful the sight was. How bright and cold... and how small it made him feel. Back home, the lights from Tokyo drowned out all but the brightest stars. But here, in the pristine Chinese wilderness, the Milky Way stretched above him, reaching out with glittering tendrils across the vast blackness of space.

He felt the presence of someone silently climbing the hill, coming up behind him.

"Hey Ranma."

"Ryoga." Ranma didn't tear his gaze away from the sky.

Ryoga walked up to him, his arms wrapped around his chest, shivering. "What're you doing, you idiot? Aren't you cold? You're gonna freeze if you don't come over by the fire."

Ranma snorted softly. "Doesn't matter. I can't feel the heat anyway. This weird cold spell won't allow anything warm to penetrate my aura."

"Oh." Ryoga lapsed into uncomfortable silence. "So... are you cold all the time?"

"Not all the time. Just when I'm not moving around enough to generate my own heat."

"Ah."

They both stared up at the stars.

"So... I've been meaning to ask you..." Ryoga cleared his throat uneasily, and glanced over at Ranma with a touch of apprehension. "Do... do you remember--"

"Yeah. I do."

Ryoga's teeth clicked shut on the question. "Oh."

Silence, except for the mournful wailing of the wind, the crackling of the fire. The dark, rounded silhouettes of the Chinese mountains surrounded them on all sides.

Ranma sighed, and glanced over at Ryoga. "So what are you buggin' me for, huh? Aren't you freezing out here, away from the fire? Why aren't you getting some sleep like the others? We've got a long way to go tomorrow."

"Maybe I don't feel like sleeping," Ryoga said defensively. "Unlike the rest of you, I'm used to traveling long distances over rough terrain by foot. I'm not tired at all."

Ranma shrugged and looked back up at the sky. "Good for you."

Ryoga clenched his teeth in frustration. "Come on, Ranma, knock it off. Moping about like this... It isn't like you."

"Yeah, well, I guess you could say I haven't been myself lately."

Ryoga scowled. "That's not funny, Ranma."

"Don't I know it."

Ryoga looked at Ranma. His friend's cursed female body looked so pale and fragile in the starlight, in spite of the hard look on his girl face... If he didn't know Ranma, or know of his curse, he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between him and a real girl. The thought freaked him out. He couldn't help but think of when Herb splashed Ranma with the Chiisuiton... Then, like now, he couldn't stand the thought of Ranma trapped forever as a girl. To lose his favorite sparring partner, the only guy around who could give him a decent fight, to the depression and despair that would inevitably follow such a disaster...

Ryoga couldn't allow that to happen. Back when they fought Herb, he had risked his own life, jumping into the collapsing crevasse to retrieve the Kaisuifuu, the magical kettle that was the only thing that could nullify the effects of the Chiisuiton. The crevasse had closed on top of him, and he would have died, were it not for his breaking point technique that allowed him to blast his way out of the earth. But the danger was worth it, just to see Ranma back to himself.

He couldn't do anything to help Ranma now. He hadn't been able to help him when he was trapped in the Nekoken, and he couldn't help him now with the cold spell. Not that he hadn't tried. His head still swam with images of kanji, from reading all those documents in Kintaro-sensei's library, trying to find a cure...

"I can still feel it," Ranma said, his voice low, interrupting Ryoga's train of thought.

Ryoga blinked, surprised that Ranma had spoken, unprompted by a question. "What?"

Ranma's fists were clenched at his sides. "It's still inside me, Ryoga. The... Nekoken. The cat soul. Whatever it is that the Shadowcat put in me when I was just a kid. It's been there inside me all this time, just waiting for me to... to freak out..."

Ranma lowered his gaze from the sky and closed his eyes. The knuckles of his delicate clenched hands were turning white. "It's been inside me the whole time, Ryoga, and I never knew it. But I know now. And I can recognize it now, because I remember... I remember how I felt, how I... thought in the Nekoken, and I can _feel_ it inside me now. I know it for what it is. And... it scares the hell out of me."

Ryoga stared at his friend, not knowing what to say in response to such a... horrible revelation. "Ranma..."

"What if it rains? What if Shampoo turns into a cat, and I..." Ranma trailed off and shuddered, unwilling to follow that thought further. His hard expression saddened. "Akane," he said softly, wistfully. "She could bring me out of it. She could call me back, break the demon's link. Either her, or the shock of changing with the curse. But Akane's not here, and I... I'm _stuck._"

This was bad. Ranma was afraid of falling into the Nekoken again. And Ryoga couldn't blame him, since it seemed like a total fluke that Ranma ever escaped from it in the first place, but not without the cost of nearly dying from the severe ki drain exacted from him by the demon. But still...

"You worry too much, Ranma," he snapped. "So what if it rains? If Shampoo turns into a cat, I'm sure she'll stay away from you until she can turn back. And we're on our way to rescue Akane, so she'll be back soon, right? Then everything will be fine."

Except, you'll still be a girl, he didn't add.

He didn't have to say anything. He could see, by the way Ranma glanced down at himself, that his friend was thinking the same thing.

Ranma was silent a moment. "Yeah," he said. "I guess you're right. Shampoo wouldn't come around me as a cat now, would she."

Ryoga nodded. "That's right. I know. I was with her and Mousse all week. She really wants to make up for casting the blood spell."

Ranma turned and looked down the hill towards the camp, lit by the flickering light of the campfire. There were four tents pitched; one for Kuno, one shared by Nabiki and Ukyo, one shared by him and Ryoga... and one shared by Shampoo and Mousse. "I still can barely believe that they're actually engaged," he muttered. "But I guess it means I'm really off the hook. It's kind of strange, with her not jumping on me and calling me 'husband' all the time. Not that I'm complaining or anything..."

Ryoga grunted agreement, following Ranma's gaze. "Yeah... Those Amazon laws are pretty weird. It didn't look like Shampoo was too happy about it to begin with, but the past week, when we were all going through those manuscripts, she really seemed to soften up towards him. I think it's because she feels so bad about the blood spell, and Mousse doesn't condemn her for it. He just encourages her to make things right."

"Good." Ranma looked out across the uneven valley, scanning the dark forest that they'd crossed earlier that evening. His eyes narrowed suddenly, and he reached out and pointed into the darkness beyond the campsite. "Look at that, Ryoga. Do you see that?"

Ryoga glanced over at Ranma, puzzled, then followed the direction of his finger out into the darkness. At first he didn't see anything. But then, as he squinted, he saw it: a thin, gray tendril of smoke threading up through the trees further down in the valley. "Yeah," he said. "So?"

"So who's building a fire all the way out here in the middle of nowhere?"

Ryoga raised an eyebrow. During the past two days, he had noticed that, every now and then, Ranma would cast worried glances over his shoulder; that sometimes he would freeze for no reason and look piercingly around at the trees... but he figured it was just a bit of eccentricity left over from the Nekoken. "Jeeze, Ranma," he said, "you're acting paranoid. It could be anyone. Somebody from a local village is probably just out camping or something."

Ranma shook his head. "Nope. Shampoo said that there are no human inhabitants in these mountains, and that the villagers stay away because they're afraid of the demons that are supposed to live here," he said matter-of-factly.

Ryoga felt an uneasy sensation building in his stomach. "Which means?"

"Which means we're being followed."

Ryoga looked sharply over at Ranma. "What? Are you serious?"

Ranma glared out into the darkness. "Yup. That's her, I'm sure of it. I've only sensed the occasional presence here and there, and sometimes I'll catch a glimpse of movement, but now I'm pretty sure it's Cologne. She's followed us here from Japan."

Ryoga paled. "Cologne? No way! Are you sure?" When Ranma nodded, Ryoga's eyes widened. "What do you think she's up to?"

Ranma continued to look at the thin, almost invisible line of smoke. "I have no idea. I mean, what can she do, now that I know about her whole plan? And we've even got Shampoo on our side. But right now, she's either being careless, or she doesn't care that we know about her. She didn't dare show her face when I was in the Nekoken, 'cause I could sense her then, and she knew I wanted to tear her to pieces. My guess is that now that I'm... back... she's gonna try something to keep us from rescuing Akane."

A burst of cold wind whipped down the canyon, making them both shiver. "So what are we gonna do?" asked Ryoga, trying not to chatter as a few tiny, stinging snowflakes touched the skin of his face.

Snow?

Ryoga looked up at the clear sky. Strange... Where had that come from?

"We need to keep our eyes open," said Ranma. "Don't let down your guard. We'll talk to Shampoo in the morning, and see if she can help us prepare for anything the old ghoul might throw at us. Even then, we've got to be ready for anything, since the old ghoul probably won't attack us with anything that Shampoo knows how to counter."

"Sounds like... a good... idea..." Ryoga blinked slowly, and looked down at his tent, feeling suddenly drowsy. Perhaps it was time he got some sleep. After all, they did have a long way to go tomorrow, and with Cologne lurking around, he needed to be alert. He tried to stifle a huge yawn, but couldn't... quite... manage... it. He found himself swaying slightly. He was so tired all of a sudden...

"Ryoga?" Ranma was looking at him curiously. "Are you okay?"

Ryoga's eyelids felt like leaden weights. "I'm fine, Ranma," he said, as he sagged abruptly to his knees. "I'm just a little sleepy..."

Ranma knelt down next to him, his blue eyes in his girl face wide with alarm as he grabbed Ryoga's shoulders to keep him from falling over. "Hey, what's wrong with you? Don't fall asleep here, you idiot!"

Ryoga responded by slumping forward onto Ranma's chest. "Hey... Hey!" Ranma shoved him back, but Ryoga's head just lolled as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. A moment later, his eyelids slipped shut.

"Ryoga!" Ranma's angry voice held a touch of fear. "Wake up, idiot! What's going on, what's wrong with you?! Wake up!" Ranma slapped him hard across the face once, then twice, leaving his small, bright red hand print on each of the Lost Boy's cheeks.

Ryoga began to snore softly.

"Ryoga..." Ranma looked at his slumbering friend in dismay and anger. Was Cologne behind this..?

And he felt a familiar warning tingle...

He turned, dropping the unconscious Ryoga to the ground, crouching into a fighting stance...

The Snow Woman looked down at him, her cold, cracked white face expressionless.

"Hello Ranma," she said softly. "We meet again."

--------------------

End of Part Sixteen


	18. Journeys and Arrivals

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 17: Journeys and Arrivals

by Krista Perry

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The Snow Woman gazed down at Ranma, her frost-blue eyes clouded and unreadable in her cracked, blackened face. She stood tall and pale in the starlight, her long mane of shimmering white hair flowing about her slender form. Her feet, barely visible beneath the long hem of her silken robes, did not touch the ground.

And, as Ranma looked up at her through his red bangs, furious recognition flickered across his female face, even as his mind screamed in terror.

*It's her! That demon -- The Snow Woman!*

She was back, somehow she had found out that he had escaped the Nekoken, and so she had returned.

And... the Shadowcat was with her. He just knew it. He couldn't see the demon, couldn't feel it yet, but then, it didn't come last time until after the Snow Woman was finished with him, and so he knew that the demon would come, that it was coming, and his mind screamed as he tried to keep from trembling...

Ranma swallowed as the hard black knot of fear building in the core of his chest threatened to explode. *Oh man, if I fall into the Nekoken again with this cold spell still on me...* A shadow, dark and terrible, crossed his face as memories of the past week, spent living with his mind and soul transformed to that of a dumb animal, swept over him like a glacial wave, leaving him gasping and shaking. *Oh no,* he realized, his terror building. *I'll be trapped forever.*

And, just at the thought, Ranma became acutely aware of the small, altered piece of his soul inside him; the "gift" inflicted upon him by the Shadowcat as a result of his Nekoken training. He felt that strange, feline part of himself twinge restlessly even as his fear mounted, as if in anticipation of the imminent moment when it would once again rise and gain animalistic dominance of his mind and body, swallowing his intelligence, his humanity, devouring him whole...

His eyes teared, he clenched his teeth, and his battle aura flared bright blue-green around his female body, even as he stepped protectively in front of Ryoga's unconscious form. "No," he groaned, a flickering ball of blue-green ki growing in his hands.

The Snow Woman looked at him, at the ball of energy he was creating. Almost unconsciously, one hand stole up towards her face to touch her blackened cheek, even as her eyes widened in alarm. "Ranma..." she said softly, gliding towards him.

Ranma crouched, his eyes narrowing in fear and anger as his ki blazed brighter. "Stay back," he snarled fiercely.

Yuki-onna paused, seeing the terror flashing through Ranma's blue eyes even as he glared up at her, the furious expression on his girl face lit eerily by his expanding ki...

...and she realized that he would not listen. He would fight her to the death before he would let her get near him.

And so, drawing strength from the biting chill of the night air, she tilted her head towards the boy in the cursed female body... and breathed softly.

Ranma flinched as the Snow Woman's icy breath swirled about his head, a few tiny snow flakes sticking against his face, not melting because of the cold spell that barely hovered over the surface of his skin. What was she doing?! Was she trying to freeze him to death again? He would blast her away before she could--

And then he felt it.

A sudden, deep lethargy seeped into the edges of his mind. Ranma blinked in surprise as his vision unfocused, blurring the image of the Snow Woman standing before him. His outstretched arms, held before him as he summoned his depression ki into the palms of his hands, sagged suddenly as a penetrating weariness swept through him, tugging at him, pulling him down to join Ryoga on the ground in a peaceful, slumbering heap.

*Sleep, child,* the spell whispered to him. *There is no need to fear. Sleep, and all will be well...*

"No!" Ranma grit his teeth, shook his head violently, and fought against the sleep spell, his ki blazing as he tried desperately to focus above the exhaustion that was creeping through his limbs, fogging his brain. If he succumbed, if he fell asleep, who knew what the pale demon would do to him.

Yuki-onna watched in amazement as Ranma struggled against her spell, the bright blue-green ki in his delicate hands building rather than diminishing. The skin of her cracked face tingled in remembered pain, almost as if in response to the power build up of Ranma's ki. She could feel it -- feel the strength of his anger and despair growing before her, focusing in the palms of his hands, and knew that, after what she had done to him, he would hold nothing back.

After all, she was nothing more than a demon... a monster...

She had to act now, while Ranma was distracted and weakened by her spell, before it was too late.

She reached out to him with her pale arms. "Ranma," she said softly, almost pleadingly. "Don't be afraid."

Ranma grit his teeth, blinking, trying desperately to focus his vision as the Snow Woman began to glide towards him again. "No!" he cried. "Not again!" He had to stop her, he couldn't let her *touch* him, he couldn't allow her to summon the Shadowcat demon to steal away his mind...

And all of the immense power of Ranma's intense fear and despair went into the Shishi Hokoudan that surged in a bright flash from the palms of his hands, towards the white apparition.

Yuki-onna's eyes widened as Ranma released his attack, and, in desperation, her hand flashed out and grabbed Ranma's wrist just as the blast hit her.

The ki blast split, surging in fiery waves around her invisible protective barriers, lighting up the dark forested mountain-scape. Ranma's eyes widened, watching as his attack scorched trees and vegetation, burning them to cinders... And yet it failed to harm the Snow Woman, who continued to clutch his wrist with her white fingers even as she sank to her knees, exerting all her power to keep his hot ki from burning her away.

"NO!" Ranma yelled in horror, jerking, trying frantically to pull out of her grip, but he was weakened from the ki he'd loosed, and her ice-cold hand was unnaturally strong, like a vise, her nails biting into his skin.

And, as the Snow Woman slowly raised her head to look at him, her face creased with strain and effort, Ranma felt a strange tingling emanate from her hand to spread in an instant all over the surface of his woman's body, from the soles of his feet to the top of his scalp.

Anguish rippled across his face, as he realized... *Too late, I was too slow, dammit, too slow! She *touched* me, oh gods, what did she do to me this time?*

The Snow Woman sagged weakly, her magic spent, her hand sliding limply from Ranma's wrist. Ranma jerked away violently, staggering back and sitting down hard next to Ryoga's fallen body.

Yuki-onna looked up at Ranma from where she knelt, glittering frozen tears of exhaustion sliding down her pale, cracked cheeks. Ranma was rubbing his slender wrist where she had grabbed him, staring at her in numb horror...

He was so tired, his body and mind cried out for sleep as the spell continued to work within him. Even the energy from his rush of adrenaline was already sapped away, and he was weakened from the ki blast he had released.

*Sleep, Ranma.* The whisper caressed his mind like the soft warm touch of a downy pillow. *Sleep and all will be well...*

He blinked as he felt his mind begin to wander; as reality slowly began to slip away under the onset of dreams...

*Akane...* he thought, as his eyelids drooped unwillingly, the blackness of unconsciousness flickering at the edges of his sight. And in his mind's eye, he thought he saw her, sitting alone, utterly isolated in a dark featureless place, weeping silently, tears slipping down her beautiful face...

*Akane...* He tried to call out to her. Was he dreaming? He couldn't tell. *I'm sorry...*

And then the Snow Woman was standing, coming towards him. He could see her, a pale apparition in the starlight. The mountain winds tugged at her flowing robes and her long, shimmering white hair.

He could hear Akane weeping, so desperate and lonely it made him want to die...

The Snow Woman knelt next to him, and he cringed away ineffectually. "D-don't..." A plea. Not for himself, but for Akane.

"You are free, Ranma," said the Snow Woman wearily. "I... have removed my cold spell from you."

Ranma blinked slowly, looking at her blearily, his blue eyes unfocused in his girl face as the spell, combined with his own very real exhaustion, pulled him down into sleep.

"What..?" he said, his eyes closing against his will. His body felt light and disconnected. He felt himself sinking...

The corner of Yuki-onna's lips quirked into the tired ghost of a smile, and she reached out to catch Ranma's slumping form, to ease him to the ground, surprised at the lightness of his cursed form.

"I do not ask you to forgive me for what I've done to you." she whispered. "If I could somehow erase the harm I have done, erase the suffering I've caused you, I would. But I cannot. I... can only view the past, not change it."

And, in confusion, Ranma slipped into unconsciousness, the sleep spell overwhelming him at last. Yuki-onna's weary expression softened. She reached out and touched his forehead gently with her white fingers, brushing back the red bangs that framed his girl face.

**Ranma,** she said, sending the words directly into his mind. **I... am sorry. For everything. And I wanted you to know... Akane has not forgotten you. She remembers.**

A frozen crystal tear fell onto Ranma's cheek. It began to melt against the warmth of his skin.

**She remembers, Ranma. And she is waiting...**

--------------------

Kuno was perplexed.

He lay on his futon, his arms behind his head, staring up at the sloping ceiling of his tent. The sun had yet to rise, so the light was poor. Still, that did not prevent him from contemplating the poster-sized pictures of the pigtailed goddess and the mysterious Akane Tendo attached to the canvas ceiling.

As he gazed up at the images, the corner of his mouth twisted slightly. *How ironic,* he thought, his eyes lingering on smooth, flawless skin; dark flashing eyes framed by perfect lashes. The picture had captured the mystery girl in mid-motion as she sent her fist through a stack of bricks. *Indeed,* he thought, *who could imagine that such a fierce tigress as this raven-haired maiden could be related to the cold, manipulative Nabiki Tendo. Ah, truly, I must save her from the savage foreign serpent who holds her captive. And, as her savior, I will most nobly accept her gratitude and adoration by allowing her to date with me!*

Kuno's eyes became slightly glazed at the thought, a delirious grin disrupting the calm of his countenance. Moments passed, and his gaze drifted with his imagination until once again his vision cleared, and he found himself staring up at the face of his beloved, the flame-haired pigtailed goddess. His grin immediately dissolved into a frown.

Here was a quandary. He loved them both so dearly... And yet, the pigtailed girl, his first love, was enslaved just as surely as Akane. That foul sorcerer Saotome had twisted his beloved's mind, enslaving her body and soul. He had cursed her, that most delicate and beautiful blossom of maidenhood, to believe that she was actually... a man.

Kuno shuddered and clenched his fists in fury. Such an abomination of dark magic! And worse, it seemed that, even though Saotome had been left behind in Japan, his enchantments over the pigtailed girl grew stronger with the distance that grew between them. For not only did his beloved believe she was a man, but she spurned his affections with increasing violence, preferring the company of that hopeless fool, Ryoga Hibiki...

-------------

"*What* did you say?" Ryoga's voice was low, his face twisted in a grimace of horror and disgust that was mirrored almost exactly by the look on the pigtailed girl's face.

Kuno swept his bokken in a grand gesture until it was pointing right between the lost boy's eyes. He had held his tongue with admirable restraint since arriving in China earlier that morning. All throughout the first leg of their journey to save the fierce and beautiful Akane Tendo, he had watched and seethed in silence, unable to appreciate the lush Chinese wilderness around them. For his silence was forced; a matter of honor tied to a promise exacted from him by the manipulative Nabiki Tendo.

But that promise of silence did not matter. Far better that his own honor be soiled than that his pure, naive, undefiled goddess be taken advantage of so blatantly!

"Art thou deaf, man?" Kuno's bokken didn't waver, but then neither did Ryoga's hard gaze as he stared up its length. "I demand to know what your intentions are towards my beloved! She, who is as fair as the rising sun, as pure as the white lily. It is plain to me that you are trying to seduce her before my very eyes!"

He heard Nabiki groan behind him. "Kuno, you idiot."

Ryoga's face turned an interesting shade of red, even as he tensed up, his eyes blazing furiously, his fangs bared. "Why-- why you--! How dare you suggest that I--"

"Kuno, you moron!" The pigtailed girl pushed Ryoga out of the way with one hand, while shoving the bokken out of the way with the other. Her face was livid as she gazed up into Kuno's face. "How many times do I have to tell you?! I'm a *guy!*"

Kuno's furious passion changed in a flash to... well, passion... as he gazed down into the sparking blue eyes that melted his heart and set his soul on fire. "Fair pigtailed girl," he said gallantly, "thou art bewitched; thy mind bent to unreason by the foul sorceries of Saotome. Now stand aside, beloved, and do not interfere in manly things. This Ryoga Hibiki is no better than Ranma; he would stain thy honor, given the chance. I do this but for thine own good."

The flash of Ryoga's battle aura was almost blinding. "WHY YOU--"

"Calm down, sugar." Suddenly, Ukyo was there, stepping between Ryoga and Kuno. "He flew us here, and we need him to get us back to Japan once this is over, remember?"

Ryoga snarled, but restrained himself. Barely.

The pigtailed girl stared up at Kuno, eyes narrowed in fury, her teeth clenched... And yet, to his surprise, she did not attack him. She appeared to be struggling within herself; a fearsome battle, for he could hear her teeth grinding together. Could it be that she was fighting against her ensorcelment? Ah, if only she could break free, then he could take her in his arms at last...

"Look, Kuno," the pigtailed girl said tightly, her voice cold and calm. "The sole purpose of this trip is to save Akane. I don't have time for distractions. Now I'm glad you flew us here and all, but unless you keep your sick delusions to yourself, I'm gonna pound you to a pulp and leave you at the nearest village where you can wait till we get back."

Kuno's heart sank. Ah, the poor child had lost the inner struggle once again. "But Pigtailed gir--!"

*pow*

"No 'buts,'" she said. "And, for the last time, my name is Ranma. Ra. N. Ma. Not 'pigtailed girl.' Got it?" She withdrew her small, powerful fist from Kuno's jaw.

Kuno rubbed his jaw for what would definitely *not* be the last time. "Perfectly," he replied, mustering the shreds of his dignity. "Though why you should wish to be called by the name of that most pathetic of cowards, that most heinous specimen of humanity--"

*POW*

And, as the darkness of unconsciousness claimed him in that old, familiar way, he heard Ryoga's voice, still tinged with anger, followed by the dulcet speaking tones of his beloved...

"About time, Ranma."

"Dammit, now I have to carry him."

-----------------

Kuno rubbed his cheek, staring up at the image of the pigtailed goddess attached to the ceiling of his tent, remembering the electric feel of his beloved's hand... well, fist... against his face on that first morning of their journey. Three days had passed since that morning, and the pigtailed girl had not delivered him up into the dark embrace of unconsciousness since then. He could only hope it meant that the spell that bound her was weakening.

He sighed heavily. Somehow, sometime soon, he would break Saotome's evil enchantment that poisoned her soul towards him. At that time, he knew, his goddess would touch his face in a much different manner. She would caress his cheek, whispering his name as she gazed up into his face, her blue eyes shimmering with gratitude and love...

Kuno's stomach growled noisily, interrupting his fantasy. The smell of frying okonomiyaki pulled him from his ponderings. "Ah," he said aloud, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the images of his two loves and sitting up in his futon. "Breakfast lends strength to body and spirit. I must partake, lest I lack the means to save my fair ones."

Stepping out of his tent, he saw Ukyo Kuonji cooking away at her grill next to the campfire. The sun had yet to peek over the mountains, and a thin, grey mist covered the ground, matching the chill in the air. Bird calls echoed through the canyon, and the general rustle of awakening wildlife whispered through the surrounding vegetation.

The beauty of his surroundings was lost on Kuno, for he only noticed one thing. Ryoga's tent flap was open. The tent was empty. That vile Ryoga Hibiki and his beloved pigtailed goddess... were gone.

He strode over with haste to confirm his suspicions...

"Ah," he cried. "What is this?! Do mine eyes deceive me?!" He raised his clenched fists, his face filled with horror. "It cannot be! And yet, there can be no other explanation!"

"What is it this time, Kuno," said Nabiki hoarsely, coming out of her tent and giving him a rather groggy version of her evil eye. Rubbing her face with one hand, she glanced over at Ukyo and quirked a smile. "Smells good, Ukyo."

Ukyo grinned and flipped an okonomiyaki with practiced ease. "Thanks."

"That foul miscreant Ryoga Hibiki!" Kuno snarled. "He has taken advantage of the sweet innocence and fragile mental state of my beloved pigtailed goddess, spiriting her away from the camp during the night, no doubt against her will, to satisfy his own base desires!"

"Hmph." Nabiki raised an eyebrow in near-amusement as she walked over to get an okonomiyaki off the grill. "Can we say 'Jumping to conclusions,' Kuno-chan? I wouldn't worry too much about Ranma and Ryoga, if I were you. They're probably just off answering the call of nature. And I don't mean *that* call of nature."

Kuno scowled. "Do not mock me, Nabiki Tendo," he said gravely. "I know whereof I speak. Come, cast your eyes and observe how their bedrolls are untouched!"

Nabiki's eyes widened slightly with interest, and she exchanged a glance with Ukyo. Ukyo put down her spatula, and the two of them went over to look in Ryoga's tent.

Sure enough, Ranma's and Ryoga's sleeping bags were rolled up, their respective backpacks zipped up tight and leaning against the tent wall.

"Maybe they got an early start," suggested Ukyo. "They probably just woke up before us and packed up their stuff."

"Without pitching their tent as well?" A hint of worry was creeping into Nabiki's eyes. So many strange things had happened, they had to be on their guard. And, though she hated to admit it, Kuno might actually be right to suspect something was wrong -- even if the situation wasn't what he thought it was.

Ukyo frowned. "You don't think something has happened to them, do you?" She looked around at the surrounding wilderness, a vast expanse of forested mountains. "Maybe we'd better look for them."

"Alas, I feared from the beginning that this would come to pass!"

"Shut up, Kuno." Ukyo shot him a look of disgust, then glanced over at Nabiki. "We should split up, but stay in sight of the camp. If we have to go further than that, we'd better go as a group. It will be safer that way, I think."

Nabiki nodded, her face calm, but the flicker in her eyes mirrored the worry on Ukyo's face. She turned and immediately started towards the rise that overlooked their little camp. She'd have a better vantage point from there; perhaps she could deduce where they had gone...

"What going on?" Shampoo stuck her head out of her tent flap. "Why stupid bokken boy yelling?"

"Ranchan and Ryoga are missing," said Ukyo, quickly turning off the gas on her grill. "It looks like they've been gone all night. We need to find them."

Shampoo's face paled. "Aiya. Is no good get lost in these mountains at night. We go look for them now." She pulled her head back in the tent and spoke in urgent Mandarin to Mousse. The two of them emerged a moment later.

"Hey!" Nabiki called down from the top of the rise. She waved. "It's okay, I found them! They're up here!"

"Are they alright?" Ukyo felt a hard knot of fear forming in her gut as she ran towards the rise, followed closely by Kuno, Shampoo and Mousse. For Ryoga and Ranma to be so close, and not respond to the noise from the camp below... She clambered up the steep grade to see Nabiki kneeling down next to them. They were lying on the cold dirt ground, Ryoga on his stomach, and Ranma about a meter away, lying on his back. Ukyo gasped. "Are they..."

"They're... asleep," said Nabiki, looking up worriedly. *Why on earth..?* Something was terribly wrong with all this. She took Ranma by the shoulder and shook him gently. "Hey. Wake up."

Kuno came over the rise of the hill and saw the pigtailed girl lying on the cold ground, the rounded curve of her breast rising and falling gently in sleep even as Nabiki jostled her with increasing anxiety. Then, he saw Ryoga, lying less than a meter away.

Kuno's eyes grew to the size of saucers, and his blood thrummed furiously in his veins as, in moments, the entire situation became plain to him.

Rushing past the others, he pulled the unconscious girl out of Nabiki's hands, sweeping her up in a crushing embrace. "Oh, my pigtailed goddess!" he wept. "To have defended thyself so adeptly from the amorous advances of this cretin, only to faint from thine own exertion once the battle was won! Alas, I should have foregone sleep, that I might have defended thee better!"

The pigtailed girl stirred in his arms, dark thick lashes resting against the pale skin of her cheeks fluttering open to reveal the bright blue of her eyes, looking up with groggy confusion into his face...

Bright blue eyes that were narrowing in sudden fury...

"What the hell--?!"

Kuno opened his mouth to whisper comforting words to his distraught goddess, only to freeze abruptly. His adoring, tear-filled eyes went blank... and he collapsed stiffly to the ground.

Ranma hastily extricated himself from Kuno's grasp and looked up to see Shampoo handing her bonbouri to Mousse, who then hid the weapons in his robes.

"Thanks, Shampoo," said Ranma, grimacing as he glanced down at the unconscious kendoist.

"Is no problem," she replied. "Shampoo tired of hearing stupid bokken boy."

"What's going on?" asked Mousse, looking back and forth between Ranma and Ryoga's slumbering form. "Why were you two sleeping up here?"

Ranma looked over at where Ryoga lay, and his face creased with confusion, his brain still foggy with sleep. "Huh?" he responded intelligently. He had fallen asleep outside? That was weird. What the heck had he been doing out..?

And then his face went slack with horror as he remembered the Snow Woman.

He remembered. She had cast a sleep spell on Ryoga, and then on him. He had fought the spell with all his strength, terrified of what would happen, what she would do to him if he fell asleep...

He had fallen asleep.

"Oh no," he whispered.

"What's wrong?" asked Ukyo, her brow furrowing with worry as she saw the color drain from Ranma's face. "What is it? What happened?"

Ranma looked down at himself, holding out his hands. He was still a girl, but other than that, he didn't *feel* any different...

And, he realized, the Snow Woman *hadn't* summoned the Shadowcat again...

His trepidation faded slightly, to be joined by puzzled relief. She hadn't summoned the Shadowcat. She hadn't come to send him back into the Nekoken. Then what..?

*You are free, Ranma...*

Ranma's eyes widened as he remembered the Snow Woman's words from the night before; the strange tingle that rippled over his body at her touch -- different, he realized, from the flash of bitter cold that had trapped him in his cursed form... \

Free?

He hadn't really been listening to her at the time, he had been so focused on fighting the sleep spell, on keeping her away from him...

*You are free...*

"No... No way," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Ranma, would you please tell us what the hell is going on?" Nabiki's face was filled with irritation, tinged with worry. "Are you okay?"

Ranma looked up at her, his heart suddenly thudding hard in his chest. "Hot water," he said, his mezzo-soprano voice sounding hoarse in his ears, even as he tried to remain calm. "I need some hot water now."

Nabiki blinked. "Hot..?"

Ukyo, Mousse and Shampoo stared at Ranma numbly, trying to absorb the implications of his request.

"Shampoo and I have a thermos in our tent," said Mousse, breaking the silence. "Just in case of emergencies. The water may still be hot."

"Shampoo get it," announced the Amazon, and, without another moment's hesitation, she turned and leaped down the rise to the campsite.

Ukyo watched as Shampoo disappeared quickly into her tent. She turned to Ranma. "Ranchan," she said. Her mind was spinning. "What's going on? What happened last night?"

Ranma looked at her, his eyes wide with fearful hope. "I..." His throat closed off. He didn't want to say it. Just in case it wasn't true. Just in case the whole thing was a trick to get his hopes up...

"Here, Ranma!" Shampoo was back, with a swiftness that surprised even him. She thrust the thermos into his waiting hands. "Is still warm, Ranma," she said breathlessly.

Ranma looked down into the water, swallowing hard as the reflection of a cute red-haired girl stared back at him. If it was true... If he was... free...

*Akane...*

His eyes moistened involuntarily, and he blinked even as his throat thickened.

*Oh, please, please let it be true,* he thought.

And he up-ended the water over his head.

Silence. Then...

"Aiya!"

"Ranchan!"

Ranma slowly opened his eyes. He knew. He could feel it. Just as surely as he could feel his expanding heart about to burst in his chest. Just as sure as he could see the looks of happy astonishment on the faces of his friends. And still he looked down, just for visual confirmation, dropping the thermos to bring his hands... *his* hands... to his chest...

"YES!! I'M A GUY AGAIN!!" His shout of pure joy echoed off the sides of the surrounding mountains. And then a moment later his friends were around him, laughing and crying and talking all at once, touching him, patting him on the back, as if making sure he wasn't an illusion. And then they had to stand back because Ranma couldn't hold still; he had to move, had to feel his body, his true shape around him, feel the power and strength of his lean musculature, feel that all the traces of his cursed female body were truly gone. Taller, stronger... He was a *guy* again!

And, with his true gender finally restored, Ranma could feel the horror of the past week sloughing away while, at the same time, a huge grin spread across his face. He was himself again, mind *and* body! He was back in control at last!

And *nothing* could stop him now.

"How, Ranma?" Nabiki was the first to recover from the shock. Even so, she was uncharacteristically flushed with the emotion of the moment, and she was smiling. "What happened to the cold spell?"

"The Snow Woman!" he crowed cheerfully, enjoying the sound of his baritone voice. "She showed up last night and took the spell off me."

Nabiki's smile vanished as her eyes went wide. "The Snow Woman?!" Her sharp tone made everyone pause, including Ranma. "The demon who did this to you in the first place? The demon who is holding Akane prisoner?"

"Well..." Ranma frowned. "Yeah. But..."

"But what, Ranma?" Nabiki's intense relief at seeing Ranma restored back to himself had vanished at the mention of the Snow Woman. "Are you saying that, after everything she's done to you, to ruin your life and keep you from rescuing Akane, she just gave up? Changed her mind? She just showed up and said, 'Hey there, Ranma. You know, while I was sitting around in the Kami Plane cutting out snowflake patterns, I suddenly realized that torturing your girlfriend and trapping you with a cat mind and a girl body was deeply, horribly wrong. Sorry for the inconvenience. Here, let me remove that nasty old cold spell of mine.'" Nabiki frowned. "I hate to break this to you, Ranma, but it's time for a reality check. There has to be a catch to this somewhere."

Ranma stared at Nabiki, dumbfounded. He wanted to get angry at her, to yell at her for ruining the moment of his freedom from the cold spell... But her words struck a chord, echoing the unvoiced fears he had buried under the emotion of the moment.

"I... Look, Nabiki." He met her dubious gaze. "I can't explain it. I don't know why she did what she did. All I know is that she had me right where she wanted me. She cast her sleep spell on me, and I couldn't fight it. She coulda done anything to me then, when I was asleep. She coulda killed me if she wanted to. Or she coulda summoned the... the Sh-Shadowcat again." Ranma swallowed. "But she didn't. And I woke up, and now I'm back to normal... and I remember..." Ranma's eyes widened and flickered slightly in amazement. "She said... that she was sorry. She said she wished she that could change what she did."

Ranma trailed off, his eyes clouding slightly as something else flickered in his mind. "And she said... that Akane is waiting for me," he said quietly. "She's waiting for me to rescue her..."

He looked into Nabiki's face again. "Now I know I don't got any reason to trust her," he said. "But she *did* break her cold spell. And as far as I can tell, she didn't do nothing else. So as far as I'm concerned, I'm going to listen to what she said... and not keep Akane waiting for me to break this blood spell any longer."

Nabiki still looked skeptical.

"Aiya," said Shampoo softly, and everyone looked at her.

She looked around into the faces of her companions, and smiled sadly. "If... if stubborn, prideful Amazon woman can change heart... no can see why Snow Woman no can do same."

Everyone turned to look at Nabiki. Nabiki simply gazed at Shampoo for a long moment. Then, finally, her expression softened slightly.

"Oh, what the hell," she said at last, shrugging. "I suppose it's *possible.*"

Ranma grinned. "Yeah!" he said enthusiastically. Shampoo smiled.

"Even if it's highly unlikely," Nabiki added cynically.

Ukyo laughed and patted her friend on the back. "Well, considering all the 'highly unlikely' things that have happened in the last few weeks, I'd say that the odds make it pretty darn likely, wouldn't you say?"

Nabiki blinked at Ukyo, and raised an eyebrow. Then she chuckled. "Okay," she said. "You win." She shook her head. "I'm glad I didn't bet on that one."

"If you had, you'd find a way to win," Ukyo quipped. And laughed again when Nabiki scowled at her with mock indignance.

Ranma smiled. He felt good. He was a *guy* again... A slight twinge in the depths of his soul flickered briefly, and for a moment, Ranma's cheer faltered. The Nekoken... It was still there. He could feel it... and the feel of it brought back a flood of memories of living, of thinking like a mindless feline creature...

Ranma swallowed, and forcefully pushed the feeling back. He... he didn't have to be afraid of that anymore. After all, the cold spell was gone, right? And if, by some chance, he *did* fall into the Nekoken again, all it would take was a splash of water to snap him out of it. A splash of water... or Akane...

Yes. He could rescue Akane... and face her as a man. The night before, when they had set up camp, Shampoo had told him that they were less that ten hours away from the mountain of the Ancient One. If they started out now, they would reach it by late afternoon, well before dark. Surely enough time to climb the mountain.

He was only ten hours away from seeing Akane again...

"Um..." said Nabiki, breaking into his train of thought. She was looking over at where Ryoga still lay, face first on the ground, snoring softly. "Should Ryoga still be asleep? I mean, I knew *you* could sleep through a nuclear blast, Ranma, but..." She trailed off. In spite of the prevalent optimistic attitude among the group that had been restored with Ranma's masculinity, she still had a nagging feeling that something was wrong; that they had overlooked something. *Just watch,* she thought. *He won't be able to wake up from that sleep spell.*

But Ranma, apparently, wasn't worried about that. After all, *he* had woken up from the Snow Woman's sleep spell. He went over to Ryoga, turned him over, and pulled him up by the front of his shirt. "Ryoga! Hey, Ryoga, wake up!" He shook his friend, none too gently. "Come on, you idiot, I can't believe you slept through all that," he said.

Ryoga's eyes opened slightly as Ranma continued to shake him. "Whu-hmldrbl?" he mumbled. Ranma grinned and released him. Ryoga fell to the ground, blinking groggily. He looked up at him. "Oh, uh... Hi, Ranma," he said, still not quite awake. "Wha's goin' on?"

Ranma smirked. "Duh, Ryoga. Open your eyes and take a good look."

Ryoga blinked and looked up at Ranma. "Yeah, so?" Then his eyes widened in realization. "Hey! You're a guy again!"

Ranma grinned. "Give the man a cigar," he said, leaning over to clap Ryoga on the back.

"What? How?" Ryoga pushed himself to his feet, looking around in confusion. *Why was I asleep up here..?*

"I'll tell you in a second. But first..." Ranma turned to the others. "Let's break camp and get moving. We can make the Ancient One's mountain by this afternoon. Right, Shampoo?"

Shampoo nodded. "Right," she said. "But we need hurry." She looked down at where Kuno still lay unconscious at her feet. "And someone need pack for stupid bokken boy."

Ranma sighed. "I'll do it," he said. "And I guess I'll have to carry him too, until he wakes up."

Nabiki chuckled. "Now *that* will be interesting. How are you going to explain to him where his 'Pigtailed goddess' went?"

Ranma's face twisted in annoyance, eliciting a laugh from Ukyo. "I'll tell him the truth, of course," he replied testily. "Not that it'll make any difference. He'll probably make up some story about how I used my 'sorcery' to switch places with her, or something worse."

"Something worse," said Ryoga, scowling. "Definitely. Now, Ranma..." He reached over and pulled Ranma down into a headlock. "Are you going to tell me what's going on, or do I have to beat it out of you?" He started applying pressure.

"Gak! Ah-heh. Sure, Ryoga..." Ranma twisted deftly out of Ryoga's grip and flipped the lost boy over onto his back, slamming him into the ground. "I'll tell you while we pack."

--------------------

As the small company of friends broke camp, they were so distracted, so filled with excitement and optimism about the end of their journey drawing near... that they failed to notice a pair of large, bulbous eyes watching them intently from the shadows of the foliage. And they completely failed to notice as those same eyes narrowed with interest, focusing on Ranma's now-masculine form...

Ranma no longer had the nearly-invincible power of the Nekoken behind him.

And, more importantly, he was a man again. A man, who could... who *would* provide strong heirs to strengthen the Amazon tribe. And he would do so willingly, once he was... properly dealt with.

Cologne smiled, her withered face wrinkling like ancient leather, and reached into the folds of her robe to finger a tiny bottle. A bottle that contained a carefully concocted potion, designed to subdue a certain strong-willed, hot-headed martial artist. It would only take a small dose, splashed onto his skin, which would then be absorbed into his blood stream and carried up to his brain. Then, within minutes, Ranma would be as tame and trusting as a small child. And he would be incapable of hearing the spell voices, which chanted incessantly of Akane's existence, in his numbed mind.

Cologne grinned. Yes, she would take great pleasure "raising" the child-like Ranma, reeducating him, teaching him of his proper place in Amazon society...

His friends would fight her, of course. Ukyo, Ryoga and Nabiki would not stand idly by and allow her to take Ranma away. It was too bad, really. She would probably have to kill them. After all, those who stood in the way of the ancient high traditions of the Amazons would perish. It had always been thus. And she would not allow the weakness of mercy to sway her from her duty. She would not fail to uphold the old ways, the traditions of her great ancestors.

Still, killing was not a *wholly* unpleasant prospect. She had wanted to kill that meddlesome Nabiki Tendo for quite some time now.

As for her great-granddaughter... Her smile faded. Shampoo had been extremely foolish, accepting that weakling fool Mousse as her betrothed. But... she was young. Just a child, really. Though she had the makings of a powerful warrior, she had not yet lived long enough to appreciate the sacrifices of their ancestors. She did not fully understand why the strength of the tribe came above all else... including personal desire.

Cologne's eyes flickered briefly.

*Especially* personal desire...

She shook her head, dispelling a sudden sense of unease, and sighed. No doubt Shampoo would come to her senses again, once she realized that Ranma was finally hers, to do with as she pleased.

Yes, she thought. By whatever means, the removal of the cold spell from Ranma was certainly a fortunate turn of events. The gods were surely smiling on her.

All she had to do now was follow silently, and wait for the right opportunity...

--------------------

Yuki-onna sat on the floor of her chambers, carefully combing through the silky lengths of her cascading white hair, the tangles giving easily under the gentle strokes. Absently, she glanced over at her mirror. It was dark, unlit by her frost magic. It reflected only her room, herself. Even so, she instinctively knew, because of her dominion over the cold, frozen parts of the mortal realm, that gradually, over the past week, time had passed slowly on the other side of the time dilation. It was time to look in on him again. He was probably awake by now, after all...

There was a soft rap on the wooden framework of her screen door. Yuki-onna looked up, her frost-blue eyes lit with sudden hope. "Yes? Who is it?"

The door slid open to reveal Kazuo, her diminutive ice-sprite servant. No. Not her servant; her friend. Perhaps her only friend. After all, when all others had fled from before her... unholy behavior... he had stayed.

Even so, she could not hide the disappointment on her face, though she tried to cover it with a smile. "Kazuo-san," she said, indicating with a nod of her head for him to enter.

But Kazuo knew her too well. "I'm afraid it is only me, mistress," he said, and there was no reproach in his voice. He came into the room, knelt next to her, and bowed formally. When he rose again, he spoke. "I thought you might want to know that Akane is recovering well," he said. "Her wounds have healed. There is still a little pain, she says, but she is now starting rehabilitation exercises to get herself back into shape."

"That is good news," said Yuki-onna, but her eyes were sad. "So... she will be leaving soon?"

Kazuo nodded. "I imagine so. As soon as she feels strong enough to fight demons again, I expect she will be leaving us."

"I see." Yuki-onna looked away and ran the comb through her hair.

Kazuo frowned. "You will not go to see her?"

Yuki-onna closed her eyes and shook her head. "She does not wish to see me. And I promised her that I would not impose upon her further." She opened her eyes, and they were wet. "I have broken too many promises," she said quietly. "I intend to keep this one."

Kazuo's frown deepened to a scowl. "But surely she should know--"

"Kazuo." Yuki-onna's voice was gentle, but firm. "I will not discuss this with you again. Akane is free. And I will not do anything to make her feel obligation towards me. Even if she accepts that my intentions are sincere, she could not help but feel, somewhere inside herself, that this is yet but one more manipulation; one more trick to keep her here and bind her to me." Yuki-onna sighed deeply. "She already knows that he is free of the Nekoken; that he is coming for her. I had nothing to do with that. And it is all she needs to know to be happy."

Kazuo bowed his head in resignation. "Very well, mistress. I will tell her nothing."

Yuki-onna's mouth turned up in a half smile. "Thank you, my friend," she said.

The ice sprite looked up at her, his professional demeanor cracking slightly, and almost smiled back. "Will you take supper this evening, mistress?" he asked at last.

"Not this evening, thank you. I was about to look in on him when you knocked."

"Ah." Kazuo rose to his feet. "Forgive the interruption, mistress."

"There is nothing to forgive. You are welcome any time."

Kazuo's almost-smile grew slightly. "Thank you, mistress." And, bowing, he left.

Yuki-onna waited as Kazuo slid the door shut quietly behind him. Then she stood and, placing her comb on a small decorative table, went to stand before her mirror. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she examined her face. Was it her imagination, or... were the charred cracks in her skin fading slightly? She had grown so accustomed to her marred features, she couldn't tell.

*Ah well.* She shrugged mentally, dismissing the thought. Then, leaning forward slightly, she breathed, clouding the reflective surface of the mirror with frost. The magic swirled, and an image formed...

"Oh man." The groaning voice echoed ethereally from the flat surface, and the mirror image focused on Ranma, who, along with his own backpack, appeared to have an unconscious young man slung over his shoulders. He was following close behind his two Amazon friends, hiking up a treacherously steep mountain path that rose ominously in front of the small company. The top of the mountain was lost, obscured by low-hanging clouds.

"I can't believe how heavy this idiot is," Ranma grumbled, shifting under the combined weight of his pack and Kuno's unconscious body as he continued to climb the rocky incline.

"Well, that's what you get for not listening to me," said Ryoga, following close behind Ranma. "I told you we should have left him at the campsite with a note telling him to wait until we got back."

"Yeah, right," Ranma called back. "You think he woulda paid attention to that? He'd just follow after us and get lost or hurt or something."

Ryoga shrugged. "Suit yourself. You're the one who has to deal with him when he wakes up and find that his 'beauteous pig- tailed girl' is gone."

Ranma scowled. And yet, at the same time, his eyes lit with an inner smile at the reminder of his restored manhood...

Yuki-onna looked on the scene in warm amusement. Yes, Ranma was a man again, free, for the moment, of his cursed form. The ice magic of her mirror swirled briefly and focused on his face...

... and, as it did, Yuki-onna gasped softly, her eyes widening.

She knew what Ranma looked like as a man. She had knelt over him, ages ago it seemed, while he slept on a roof, her white hands spread across his chest as she slowly, carefully froze him to death...

Why had she not noticed before? The strong lines of his face. The tousled, dark hair, hanging over eyes that were as blue...

...as blue as the summer sea...

Her hands trembled. *Shin,* she thought, her frost-blue eyes filling with tears. *Oh... He is so like him. How could I not see..?*

She pushed the thought away, knowing the answer even as the pain of loss and grief stabbed through her heart. She closed her eyes briefly as icy tears slipped down her cracked cheeks.

Ranma's resemblance to Shin, though undeniable, was superficial at best. Still, the recognition of it drove a painful spike of remorse through her heart. *Oh Akane,* she thought, feeling the wet ice crystals against her face. *To think that, in trying to keep you from him, this beautiful boy you love... I have caused you to suffer the same agony that I went through. The agony that, even now, claws away at my very sanity...*

Just one more piece of evidence against her. To be blind to one's own monstrosity was a hard thing. And yet to finally see that monstrosity, with the perfect clarity of one who has had the veil of self-delusion lifted from their mind, was misery unparalleled.

And Yuki-onna wept silently, trembling.

When she finally opened her wet eyes, the image in the mirror had changed, panning back to show the entire party as they struggled up the mountain pass. Shampoo and Mousse led the way, followed by Ranma, burdened with Kuno, then Ryoga, with Ukyo and Nabiki bringing up the rear, the two girls silently keeping a close eye on the Lost Boy to make sure he didn't wander off.

And, far behind them, slipping silently among the dense trees, hiding in shadows, was the old Amazon crone.

Yuki-onna frowned through her tears. She wasn't sure of the old woman's exact intentions towards the rescue party, but she was sure they weren't good. The crone was the one behind the blood spell, after all. Yuki-onna had delved into the past and watched the whole thing in her mirror.

A mental command, and the image swirled, and focused on Cologne as she moved from shadow to shadow. The old woman's ancient face was creased and withered with age.

And, hidden deep within the lines of age, so deep that it was not visible to human eye, Yuki-onna recognized... bitterness. Avariciousness. Hatred and self-loathing.

Yuki-onna trembled as she looked into the face of this mortal, her eyes widening in wet revulsion and horror...

...for she recognized those hidden aspects of the old woman's countenance -- recognized them from years, decades, centuries of looking at her own reflection...

A small clenched fist went to her mouth, and she turned away, unable to look in the mirror...

The mirror.

Yuki-onna took a deep breath and reached out a trembling hand towards the mirror to steady herself against the solid wooden frame. She leaned against it heavily.

No. It was plain to see that this woman's intentions towards Ranma were anything but good.

Slowly, the Snow Woman turned back to face the mirror, to face the image of the twisted, bitter crone, skulking in shadow, moving in the reflective surface.

Yuki-onna's eyes shimmered, the grief and suffering in their frost-blue depths hardening with determination.

*Akane,* she thought resolutely. *You will be reunited with Ranma again. I will make sure of that.*

And, closing her eyes, she pressed her slender white hands against the mirror.

--------------------

An unexpected chill wind burst down the mountain, and Cologne shifted and moved swiftly as the tree branches and foliage bent and swayed under the cold onslaught, never losing her cover of darkness. The ancient Amazon moved on, undeterred by something as trivial as weather, blending with the rustling of the leaves, she herself a chaotic, flitting shadow.

Far above her on the mountain trail, Ranma and the others climbed, oblivious to her presence. Ranma had grown careless and overly confident with the return of his masculinity. Before his release from the cold spell, he was constantly tensed and alert, sometimes becoming aware of her proximity. Now, he didn't even cast a backward glance over his shoulder. He was totally focused on his goal in front of him, and had left his back open and exposed...

This would be easier than she had first thought.

Another burst of frigid wind, whipping her long white hair about her face, and Cologne felt the sting of tiny flecks of ice bite against the skin of her cheeks.

A moment later, she stopped dead in her tracks in surprise as a sudden weariness penetrated her old bones, seeping through her like a numbing mist.

Cologne's eyes narrowed in alarm. *A sleep spell! How..?!*

And then she knew. She understood how the cold spell had been removed from Ranma. Somehow, Ranma's enemy had become his ally.

And his ally was now her enemy.

*Very well, Snow Woman,* she thought, a grim, wrinkled smile creasing her face. *You would try to stop me from reaching my goal? Let it be war then. I haven't lived over three centuries without learning how to deal with your kind, after all.*

And, focusing her ki, the powerful ki that had kept her ancient body from the grave for over two hundred years, she focused inward... and burned away the soothing desire for sleep spreading through her limbs, trying to dull her mind.

Cologne cackled softly, her voice blending with the angry cry of the biting wind that now lashed at her with tearing, icy fingers, which she ignored with ease.

*What will you do now, Snow Woman?* she thought contemptuously. *You see I am not like the untrained stripling of a boy you are used to dealing with. I know your limitations, and I can counter your tricks. The winter season has left this land, and your magic is weak. You cannot stop me.*

And indeed, she moved with even greater speed and determination up the mountain path, a silent flitting piece of darkness, unseen and unheard by those she followed after...

--------------------

Yuki-onna's eyes went wide as she stared into her mirror, her hands still pressed against the cold, flat surface as her frost magic swirled around the image of the mortal world. *Impossible!* she thought angrily. *No mortal has ever resisted my sleep spell before!* Even Ranma, who had a strength of will unlike any she had encountered in a mortal before... other than Akane... had fallen under her magic.

She frowned, her frost blue-eyes narrowing at the stilled image of the old Amazon crone.

No ordinary mortal, this one. Her simple spells, easily cast through her mirror, would not work. To face the crone in person was out of the question, since her power in the warming season of the Chinese wilderness would be seriously dampened, and she knew of the Amazon's physical prowess in the martial arts...

And yet she had to keep Cologne from reaching Ranma.

Yuki-onna thought furiously, biting her lower lip. There had to be a way...

--------------------

"Mistress?"

No answer.

Frowning, Kazuo carefully balanced the tea tray on one hand and slid open the screen door, peering tentatively into Yuki-onna's chambers.

The Snow Woman stood, silent and unmoving before her mirror, staring as her frost magic swirled across the reflective surface.

The mirror showed a series of images, repeating over and over. An old mortal woman, climbing a mountain with incredible swiftness. She pauses suddenly, sagging, as if overcome with great weariness. She scowls fiercely, and a faint outline of scarlet battle aura flickers about her diminutive form. After a moment, she straightens, and her withered face splits into a disturbing smile. Then she resumes her course with increased speed...

The image paused, the frost swirled, and the same series of images was repeated again.

"Mistress?" Kazuo repeated worriedly.

Yuki-onna blinked and turned to him. "Kazuo-san," she said distractedly. "Come in."

The ice sprite entered, and closed the door behind him. "I brought you some tea."

"Thank you. That was very considerate." Yuki-onna's eyes strayed back to her mirror.

Kazuo cleared his throat. "Mistress... You haven't left your chambers in almost three days."

"Yes," she acknowledged.

"Is... something wrong?"

A slight frown tugged at the Snow Woman's pale lips. "Kazuo," she said, glancing at him suddenly. "Have I ever told you about this mirror?"

Kazuo blinked, his bristly white brows furrowing over winter gray eyes. "I know that it serves as both a window and a portal to the mortal realm," he replied hesitantly, unsure about the direction the conversation was going.

Yuki-onna nodded, and reached out a slender white arm, her long fingers gently caressing the shimmering reflective surface. "You are right," she said. "With my mirror, I can view the past of the mortal realm, up to the moment of the present. Unfortunately," she said, her frown deepening slightly, "because of the time dilation between the planes, the present in the mortal realm passes much more slowly than it does here. For that reason, the events I view in my mirror have usually already happened. I can watch the past, up to the moment of the present, and then the image freezes, for nothing more has taken place. And then I must wait for time to pass slowly in the mortal realm before I can view more. Unless, of course, I cross over into the mortal realm and become a part of that time flow."

"I see." Kazuo fell silent, waiting expectantly.

"This old woman." Yuki-onna gestured to the moving image of Cologne in her mirror. "She has ill intent towards Ranma and his friends. I have tried to stop her from reaching them, by casting my sleep spell through the mirror. Unfortunately, because of the filtering of the time dilation, the warming season in that part of the mortal realm, and her own... unexpected power, she was able to dispel my magic."

Kazuo frowned, not liking the sound of what the Snow Woman was saying. "What are you going to do?" he asked. "I can see by your face that you have not given up."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "No. I haven't. And I have an idea. But it is dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"Very." She looked down into the narrow, blue-skinned face of the diminutive ice sprite. "So dangerous that it may put you in harm's way. And I would not see you hurt."

Kazuo looked up into the Snow Woman's face, his eyes widening slightly with surprise and understanding at her quiet words. He returned her gaze, his chiseled features expressionless.

"Are you telling me to leave?"

"I am... requesting," she said softly. "I cannot require that you stay at the risk of your life."

"Then, if you are not ordering me to leave, it is settled." Kazuo's winter-gray eyes gazed at her steadily. "I will stay. My place is here."

The steel in his tone left no room for argument. Yuki-onna's smile saddened, and she closed her eyes briefly. "As you wish, then. So long as you know that you are free to leave, should you desire to do so."

"I have always been free to leave, mistress," he replied.

"Yes." Gratitude flickered briefly across the Snow Woman's cracked face. Then she turned away, and her gaze focused on the mirror. "Is... Akane well?" she asked, her voice low.

Kazuo nodded. "Yes, she is doing much better. This morning before breakfast, I watched her perform some very difficult-looking katas with apparent ease." He paused hesitantly, knowing instinctively what Yuki-onna really desired to know. "She... is anxious to leave," he said quietly. "She will probably leave within the next day or two."

"So." Yuki-onna nodded slightly, but did not turn to face him. "She is able to defend herself, then, against any demons she might face."

Kazuo frowned at the talk of demons. "Yes," he said slowly. "I would imagine so."

The Snow Woman lifted her head, and her eyes gazed at nothing. "Good. Then it is time to begin." She turned and smiled gently at Kazuo. "You'll need to stand back, my friend."

--------------------

Moments after shaking off the Snow Woman's sleep spell, Cologne moved with swift confidence, silently gaining ground on Ranma and the others as they hiked up the mountain.

Her concealment was perfect, her presence precisely hidden. And, with Ranma focused so intently on reaching the mountain of the Ancient One, he wouldn't be able to detect her. Only a matter of minutes, now, before she would be close enough, and then...

She smiled. And then, Ranma would never know what hit him--

A fierce blast of sub-zero wind hit Cologne full in the face, tearing at her skin, freezing the breath in her lungs. She halted in her movement, gasping from the sudden bitter cold, her eyes widening in alarm as a thin layer of frost began to form over her skin, spreading over the withered surface like a fungus.

*Such power!* she thought angrily as she immediately summoned her ki to her defense. *Where is the Snow Woman getting that kind of energy in this temperate climate?!*

She focused her ki, her fury igniting its heat. Her ki began to eat away at the cold that had taken hold of her.

But, to her amazement and dismay, the cold fought back with even greater fury, extinguishing the heat of her ki, nullifying it, dispersing it harmlessly.

"No," Cologne whispered, her breath a cloud of moisture freezing before her eyes and falling to the ground in tiny granules of ice. She felt her old joints stiffening with the growing cold. She had to move, she had to get away--

She couldn't. And, looking down, she discovered the reason why. Her feet were completely encased in several inches of ice, frozen solid to the rock face, effectively halting her forward movement.

The cocoon of ice began to spread quickly up her legs.

Snarling, Cologne lashed out with her staff and shattered the ice that held her bound. She would not be stopped, not by this impertinent Japanese Ice Sprite with delusions of nobility. With her legs free once again, she clenched her teeth against the numbing wind and resumed her course, her ki flaring brighter, her heated anger fighting against the frost that continued to creep across her skin...

She slipped.

Almost three centuries of martial arts training would not allow her to fall, however, and she immediately found purchase against the slick ground, balancing on the tip of her staff, unwilling to allow her feet to touch the ground again. Looking at the rocky trail in front of her, and the surrounding vegetation, she saw that everything for a good ten meters around her was covered in a thick sheen of gleaming ice.

And already, the tip of her staff was frozen solid to the ground, thick ice forming up its length.

*How is this possible?!* Cologne thought in amazed fury. *The Snow Woman should not have this kind of power!* With a yank, she tore her staff loose from the ice, yet when she tried to balance on its tip to leap clear of the ice patch, the wind tore at her with renewed frenzy, and she fell against the onslaught, landing lightly on her feet...

Immediately, the ice clamped on, forming a bright cocoon up to her knees, creeping up to her thighs.

And, in her growing rage, Cologne shouted a loud "Kiya!" as she once again shattered the ice that bound her.

High above her on the mountain, Ranma and the others froze as the sound of the shriek echoed off the rocky canyon walls.

"What," said Ranma, as he and the others turned to look back down the mountain, "in the hell was that?"

--------------------

"Kazuo?"

Akane walked into the dining area. She had dressed in her nicest clothes, which, she had discovered to her dismay, was the outfit with the least amount of bloodstains. The plain brown tunic, which fell to mid thigh, was sloppily hand stitched in several places where it had been torn, slashed, or simply worn through, and her leggings and soft leather boots weren't in much better shape. Still, the clothes should last her another month or so. She had long ago sacrificed vanity and style for thrift, practicality and comfort. Both her pack and her katana were strapped to her back.

She stopped short when she saw that, there on the dining table, her place had been set out. A kettle of steaming green tea sat next to her cup.

She smiled in spite of herself. Kazuo hated to be near anything that gave off heat, since it made him extremely uncomfortable, and yet, ever since her first rather childish protest about the tea always being cold, he had made sure it was hot for her.

"Kazuo?" she called again, looking around, extending her senses and trying to feel him in the near vicinity, but coming up blank. Where could he be? The past few days, he had always had tea with her. And if he didn't show up now, how could she say goodbye? How could she thank him for taking care of her before she left?

The ice sprite still acted as if he didn't like her much. During the few weeks she had been here recovering from her battle with the Shadowcat, however, he had made sure her every need was taken care of. When she was too weak and in too much pain to take care of herself, he had tended and dressed her wounds, and had waited on her hand and foot until she was strong enough to take care of herself. And even then, he always had her meals ready, making sure she never had the chance to go hungry.

He wasn't much for company, though. It seemed he never spoke unless absolutely necessary, and she had soon learned that it was futile trying to start a conversation with him. But that was okay, because, after over two years of wandering through the Kami Plane on her own, Akane was almost used to being lonely.

Still, she was grateful to the unsociable sprite. Were it not for Kazuo's help, she wouldn't have healed so quickly. She wouldn't have recovered so fast, and she wouldn't be ready to leave this frozen prison, so full of painful memories and shattered hopes...

Yes. She was leaving today.

Akane felt a frown tug at her lips as she looked around, a swirl of convoluted emotions filling her chest.

Sometimes she couldn't help but feel that Kazuo had helped her only so he could be rid of her sooner.

They never talked of the Snow Woman.

But that didn't keep Akane from thinking of her.

The Snow Woman had been as good as her word... this time. From the day Akane first regained consciousness and had yelled at her in fury, magnified by her pain, fear, and confusion at finding herself in the enemy's domain, Akane had not even so much as sensed the Snow Woman's presence. Where ever she was, she was staying far away. Probably hiding out in her quarters, which Akane had intentionally avoided.

But what was she doing?

That was the question that plagued Akane's mind. And, during the days of her convalescence, her imagination had run wild with speculation, fed by memories of her own betrayal -- memories of walking in and seeing the Snow Woman laugh in delight as she looked into the mortal plane through her mirror, watching as Ranma despairingly clung to a severed lock of hair as if his very sanity depended on it...

But that was not all. For Susa-no-o, with his own magic, had shown her the full extent of the Snow Woman's crimes. He had shown her images of Yuki-onna, her former trusted friend, tormenting Ranma... delivering him into the claws of that horrible Shadowcat demon... the demon that went on to murder Masakazu. The demon that had nearly killed her when she tried to free Ranma's soul...

Yes, she had nearly died. But it had been worth it, she thought, smiling grimly, because she had sent that demon's head flying with a last, desperate flash of her katana. And in doing so, she had set Ranma's mind and soul free once again...

Ranma was free.

Yes. It had been worth it. She would do it again in a second, if necessary.

As if in protest to the thought, a slight ache rippled through her shoulder and thigh. Akane winced slightly, and reached up with one hand to rub her shoulder. The wounds from the Shadowcat's claws were healed now, but the thin pink lines of parallel scars would be hers forever.

Akane blinked at the sudden wetness in her eyes as she massaged her shoulder, feeling the new, fearful hope tremble in her heart. He was free. And he would come for her. He always came for her. It... it didn't matter that the time dilation would make it so that the days, weeks and months would continue to pass with agonizing slowness; that she would continue to grow older before Ranma, still just seventeen years old in the mortal plane, found a way to break the blood spell that kept her bound here. She knew he wouldn't give up. And neither would she. She would keep searching for a cure as well...

Akane sighed. She had to start searching again.

"Kazuo?!" she called, her voice tinged with impatience.

No answer.

Fine then. She'd have tea without him. And if he didn't show up, she'd just leave him a note and then go. She'd been in the Snow Woman's realm far too long for her liking anyway. She would walk into the mists, and head straight for Susa-no-o's realm. Then she'd face the arrogant deity, and demand to know what the hell he was thinking, transporting her back into the Snow Woman's domain. It had to be his doing. She remembered the tingling sensation that came from his magic comb before she lost consciousness, feeling the stone ground of the Shadowcat's cave turn to soft snow beneath her. She couldn't think of any other explanation as to how she had come to be here.

Akane scowled. It was probably Susa-no-o's stupid idea of a practical joke. Well, she'd tell him a thing or two when she went back.

Kneeling at the table, she tossed her long, thick braid over her shoulder with an unconscious flip of her head. She then slid her pack and her katana from her shoulders, and poured herself a cup of tea. Taking a slow sip, she couldn't help but let her eyes wander over the white, crystalline walls and ceiling that seemed to catch the light at all angles and refract rainbow colors over the surface.

So beautiful. And yet so cold and empty, utterly without warmth.

*Just like the Snow Woman,* she thought, her brown eyes clouding as her countenance darkened.

And yet...

It had been so strange, the past few days, being back in the Snow Woman's realm... Walking through the rooms and corridors that she had called home during the first two and a half years of her stay in the Kami Plane...

And, in spite of her anger, she couldn't help but remember the beginning, when the blood spell had first torn her from the mortal realm. She couldn't help but remember when she first came; when the Snow Woman... Yuki-onna... had showed her kindness and friendship in some of her loneliest, most frightened hours...

Akane's eyes flickered, and a small frown tugged at the edges of her mouth.

They had been so close. They had laughed and talked and shared so many things, almost like a mother and daughter, before it all went sour...

Now the icy corridors echoed with the silence of the grave. Gone was the comforting murmur of the ice sprite servants, talking and laughing among themselves as they went about their duties, having all deserted after the Snow Woman summoned the demon Shadowcat. Everything was now empty and cold in a way it had never been before the betrayal.

And yet...

Akane's hard gaze softened slightly. There were times when, while wandering through a familiar yet empty room, she sometimes felt the brush of an old memory against her mind. She sometimes half expected to feel Masakazu's flitting presence as he initiated another training session with one of his sneak attacks, or hear Yuki-onna's warm voice; see her turn the corner, her frost blue eyes lit with excitement as she presented Akane with yet another new outfit, carefully sewn with motherly affection...

Yes, Akane realized with surprise. Yuki-onna's voice had been warm once...

Akane sipped her tea, her expression troubled...

...and froze.

She blinked, her tea still lifted to her lips, as a slow suffocating feeling of dread stole upon her, making her flesh crawl.

*What the--!*

Her brown eyes widened at the horribly familiar sensation. Her senses screamed, her muscles tensed.

Carefully, silently, she lowered her cup, placing it on the table.

*Demon,* she thought. And, reaching down in one smooth motion to where her pack lay, her katana was in hand, unsheathed, the live blade flickering with blue ki.

Her shoulder ached as she felt the malevolent creature's presence. She could sense it as it skittered down the hallway towards the dining room. She could hear the faint scrabble of its thick claws on the cold floor...

A demon was in the Snow Woman's realm.

Which meant that the Snow Woman had removed the protective barrier that surrounded the outskirts of her domain.

*But... why?* Akane moved with silent speed to the dining room entry way, feeling the demon as it grew closer, creeping down the hall towards her.

The Snow Woman didn't have the strength or fighting ability necessary to protect herself from the viciousness of a demonic attack. And surely she didn't expect Akane to protect her, as she had done so long ago, when the Snow Woman had removed the barrier to relieve the constant drain on her magic.

Which could only mean one thing.

Akane's dark eyes flashed in anger, and the blue fire of her battle aura tinged with red, throwing off a violet light. The Snow Woman had lowered the barrier. And the demon wouldn't be there unless the Snow Woman had allowed it... had *invited* it.

Stunned realization flickered across Akane's face.

The Snow Woman had summoned this demon, just as she had summoned the Shadowcat in her attempt to destroy Ranma. She was trying, again, to stop Ranma from rescuing her.

Akane's gaze hardened, and she shifted her two-handed grip on her katana.

*Over my dead body.*

The demon was close, getting closer. She could hear it breathing now, a high pitched wheeze, in and out through clenched teeth; a continuous sickly, hysterical giggle. She could feel the suffocating weight of its evil presence as it drew closer...

Akane stepped out into the hallway, directly into the demon's path, her expression as cold and calm and deadly as the blue aura that surrounded the blade wielded in front of her.

The demon screeched to a halt in surprise, its flickering eyes narrowing in a dead gray face that might once have been human, and it snarled, displaying jagged yellowed teeth in a slavering mouth.

Akane didn't allow the demon to get its bearings. Without hesitating, she moved towards it with deadly swiftness, leaping silently...

...and as she did, the demon's sunken eyes widened in realization. It lashed out with a gray-fleshed, clawed hand.

"You!" it wheezed, eyes sparking with hate and fear as Akane's sword flashed.

And then the spark vanished from the demon's eyes. Its twisted expression, a rictus grin of terror, remained frozen in place for a long moment.

Akane landed lightly on her feet behind the demon... And listened to the sound of a head sliding cleanly from a stump of neck, falling to the floor with a solid *thud*.

She turned and watched in silent revulsion as the body slowly collapsed, joining the demon's head on the floor.

Not a very powerful demon. Slow and stupid. Still, Akane couldn't help but be amazed at how easily she dispatched the creature. She walked over, swallowing the bile that still rose in her throat after all this time, and pushed the quivering body away from the head with the tip of her boot. No sense in letting the thing pull itself together any sooner than necessary. Her chest still felt tight with the squeezing presence of encroaching malevolence...

*Wait.*

Akane blinked, looking down at the twitching dead demon at her feet. *That's not right, I shouldn't still be feeling that after...*

A skittering presence shifted in the back of her awareness.

Akane jerked and turned just in time to see a shadow flit across the intersection at the end of the long hallway.

*What, another one?!*

With growing alarm, Akane extended her battle senses, slipping automatically into the old pattern she had used over two years ago when she defended the Snow Woman's domain on a regular basis. Her expertise, combined with her familiarity with almost every centimeter of the realm, made it easy to sense the approximate location of any intruder on the premises...

Akane gasped. There were two other demons in the household, aside from the one she'd just decapitated. A third demon was barely tickling the outskirts of her awareness as it emerged from the Mists of Kami.

And now a fourth. A fifth...

*Oh no.*

So many. In the past, when Yuki-onna had lowered the barrier to have full access to her magic, Akane had only faced one or two demons a day. And that was when they were being persistent...

She knew where they were going. Though they came from different directions, and moved at different paces, she could sense that they were all moving to the center of the domain, where the Snow Woman herself resided.

"No." Akane spoke aloud through clenched teeth, her dark eyes narrowing to glinting slits. "No way are you helping that witch hurt Ranma." And she ran silently, following swiftly after the closest one, the shadow creature that had flitted by moments before.

*I'll just have to take them out one by one,* she thought.

At that moment, yet another demonic presence intruded upon her senses, even as she continued to pursue the second.

Akane felt the first twinges of fear steal into her heart. Where were they all coming from? Had the Snow Woman sent an open invitation to the entire Gaki domain?!

Just the thought of facing so many demons again...

She swallowed, forcing saliva into her suddenly-dry throat, trying to ignore the throbbing in her shoulder. They were moving quickly now, too quickly for her to catch all of them before they reached the Snow Woman. They moved almost as if aware that she was on to them. And she knew she couldn't face them all at once. Two, yes. Three, quite possibly. Four or five?

Well, at least she would go down fighting...

She had to go to the source, she realized. She had to stop the Snow Woman.

Akane ran. The glittering walls of ice flew by in a dazzling blur as she moved at a speed Masakazu would have been proud of. Turning the corner in a flash, she saw the shadow demon a ways ahead of her. She called out to it with cry of challenge, and the creature paused in its flitting movement to look back at her...

...although "look" probably wasn't the most appropriate description, because the thing had no eyes. And no face. Just blackness, shadow on shadow. Even so, Akane could almost sense it grinning at her in malevolent anticipation.

The shadow demon's nebulous form rippled and convulsed slightly as she neared it.

"Ssssoooo lllovely," it hissed without a mouth. "I willll hhhaave youuu."

Akane suppressed a shudder as she came towards it, sword blazing. *Ughh. Pervert,* she thought angrily.

And, as she closed in for the kill, the demon's black ki flared with blinding swiftness, lashing out at her with dark, burning tendrils to ensnare her, to pull her into its shadowy body.

Akane gasped in pain as the swift tendrils breached her defenses and caught her, one wrapping around her neck, another catching her wrist and snaking up her arm. "Unghh!" she grunted, bracing her feet against the floor as the demon began to pull her towards itself. More tendrils shot out to snare her ankles and pull her off her feet.

*I don't think so,* she snarled mentally, and, with a swift flash of her katana, the severed ki tendrils dissipated harmlessly.

Akane straightened, her eyes narrowing as she rubbed her ki-burned neck with her free hand. The faceless shadow demon trembled slightly, shrinking back in surprise. "Llllovely..." it whispered.

Akane cleaved it in half.

It died silently, the flickering shadows around its shapeless form disappearing like fog vapors in sunlight. Its remaining twisted physical form fell to the floor in two twitching pieces.

Akane didn't pause to watch the creature's death throes. She ran, a blur of movement in the cold corridors, as she extended her senses once again, her face set with grave determination.

*Now... where are the others?*

She could feel them. The demons that had not yet penetrated the walls of the household had slowed in their invasion, as if sensing the deaths of those within. A small reprieve, she knew, for demons could not be dissuaded from their desired goal for long. And the third demon, the one already inside...

...was already with the Snow Woman.

"No!" Akane turned the last corner and saw the entrance to the Snow Woman's quarters. The rice paper and lattice door had been demolished, and an eerie blue-white light pulsed from the opening with bright intensity. Akane ran to what was left of the door, clenching her jaw to keep from chattering as the temperature dropped abruptly.

She gaped at the sight that met her eyes.

Kazuo lay stunned against the wall, a bloodless gash torn in his blue-skinned cheek. And in the center of the room, the Snow Woman knelt before her living mirror, her hands thrust into the rippling surface up to her wrists. Her head was bowed against her chest, and her white shimmering hair spilled about her face, hiding it from view. Both she and the mirror were surrounded by a shining, transparent blue-white sphere of magic and energy.

And a demon, its dead gray skin moist and glistening, was pushing its way into the sphere to join the Snow Woman.

Akane saw all of this, and yet none of it held the forefront of her attention. For in the living surface of the mirror, she saw the mortal plane. A Chinese mountain-scape. And on the side of that mountain, frozen as if in mid-movement, she saw...

"Ranma!" she screamed.

The demon turned at her cry, and gave her a venomous grin, the saliva dripping from its gaping maw and sizzling against the cold marble floor, its yellow eyes glinting.

"Akane!" Kazuo called out weakly. "Be careful..."

Akane wasn't listening. All she knew was that the Snow Woman was trying to hurt Ranma again, and this demon was here to help her. With a cry of despair and fury, Akane ran forward, ignoring how the air crackled with cold and bit into her skin. Her sword flashed.

The demon fell to the floor in pieces.

Kazuo was struggling to his feet. "Akane... Thank the gods! I thought you'd left..."

Akane's ichor-stained katana clattered to the ground. A moment later, she had both her hands pressed against the sphere of magic, her ki blazing blue around her, and, with all her strength, she began to force her way inside. She would tear the Snow Woman away from her mirror by force, stop her from working her evil... stop her from hurting Ranma...

"Akane! What are you doing?"

But she couldn't hear the ice sprite's frantic protests. Because, as her hands passed through the barrier, searing agony tore through her, causing her to cry out and sink to her knees. Wave after wave of pain rippled through her, as if every cell in her body was being torn apart...

Familiar pain, she realized, tears streaming from her open eyes as she desperately struggled to focus over the agony. She could dimly hear Kazuo calling her name. Yes, this was familiar. She had felt this long ago, when the spell from the mortal plane had tried to pull her through the dimensional barriers. But the blood spell had fought back, keeping her rooted in the Kami Plane, tearing her apart until the mortal spell was reversed, pulling Ranma through the barriers instead...

Ranma. She had to save him. She could see his unmoving form in the mirror...

With his face in her mind, she focused above the pain, and continued to push against the sphere. Her arms broke through, followed by her face, her head, neck and shoulders...

Oh... the pain...

*Ranma...*

The pain flowed around her, and she kept pushing.

*This sphere...* she realized. *It's part of the mortal realm somehow... and the blood spell is trying to keep me out of it...*

The Snow Woman knelt unmoving, head bowed, hands thrust into the mirror, as if unaware of Akane's intruding presence.

She was almost through, crawling on her hands and knees, her whole body, from the center of her being to the surface of her skin, on fire with pain. *Ranma...* Akane could see him, his image frozen in the mirror. And now she could see others with him. Ryoga, Ukyo, Shampoo and Mousse... Kuno was unconscious, slung across Ranma's broad shoulders. And... *Nabiki?* she thought in amazement, seeing her sister's face among the small group.

As she pulled the rest of her trembling body through the sphere, the images in the mirror slowly began to move, as if time had stopped and was only now starting again. She could see Ranma, his blue eyes narrowing as he turned; she could hear his voice through her pain...

"What," he said, looking down the mountain in surprise, "in the hell was that?"

"Cologne!" Ukyo's hands immediately went to her bandolier, pulling out several sharp mini-spatulas.

"Aiya!" said Shampoo, her eyes widening fearfully. "Great-grandmother!"

"Dammit, Ranma!" Ryoga shouted. "You forgot that she was following us!"

"*I* forgot?" Ranma retorted angrily, and yet he looked rather shamefaced. "Look who's talking," he blustered. "You knew she was following us too! Besides... I had other things on my mind!"

Ryoga went to snap back an insult regarding the state and reliability of Ranma's mind, but then he saw the genuine look of guilt in his friend's eyes. And he once again saw the haunted shadow that lingered just under the surface of Ranma's cocky facade. Ryoga's teeth closed on the words before they escaped, but he still managed a healthy glare that wasn't nearly as malicious as he intended it to be.

"Will you two be quiet?" Nabiki snapped, not noticing the silent exchange between the two boys. "Look at that," she said, pointing when she had their attention. "It looks like Cologne's fighting... some kind of mini snow storm or something."

"What in the--?!" Ranma shifted under his burden and adjusted his footing on the steep slope, trying to get a better view. His eyes widened as he saw Cologne fighting the wind itself. The mountain path and vegetation that surrounded her glittered unnaturally in the little patches of sunlight that managed to filter through the low-hanging clouds. "Is that ice?" \

Ukyo blinked in surprise. "I've heard of freak weather patterns before, but *this*..."

A cool wind blew softly around the small rescue party.

"*Hurry...*"

The group froze as a ghostly voice whispered down the mountain. After a moment, Ranma's eyes widened in recognition.

"It's the Snow Woman!" he said in amazement. "Check it out, she must be the one fighting the old ghoul!"

"The Snow Woman?!" Ryoga blinked in shock, looking down the mountain.

Nabiki looked down the mountain, watching as thick sheets of ice formed and combined in an attempt to pin down the furious Cologne, who was desperately shattering back the relentless onslaught. "Well, that *does* explain what's happening down there," she said, somewhat wryly.

"See, Nabiki?" Ranma turned to her, smirking. "I *told* you she was on our side now."

"Okay, okay..."

"*Hurry...*" the voice whispered again, and everyone paused. It sounded so faint, so weary, they had to strain to hear it among the wail of the wind. "*Ranma...*"

"What--" Ranma's brow furrowed as he strained to hear.

"*Please Ranma. I will keep the Amazon from interfering. Do not waste any time fighting her. Akane has been waiting so long... too long... She needs you... Please hurry...*" And then the voice faded away into the wind.

Ranma's blue eyes were wide. The stricken expression on his face said more to his friends than the words that followed. His jaw tightened. "Come on," he said, turning to the others with urgency, tinged with desperation. "Let's go already. You heard what she said. She'll hold off the old ghoul so we can rescue Akane."

"Right."

His friends nodded in assent, and together they began to climb the mountain with renewed haste.

The wind sighed, and it was almost a sound of relief.

The image in the mirror shifted and turned down the mountain to once again focus on Cologne as she battled the ice that was determined to trap her...

And, watching all of this, Akane trembled. She felt tears sliding down her face, but they were not tears of grief, or even pain, although the dimensional pull on her body was excruciating. Looking over at the Snow Woman for a moment, she then turned and, with the last of her strength, crawled out of the sphere, noting, to her relief, that it was much easier getting out than coming in.

She collapsed to the cold floor, just outside the shining sphere, and lay there gasping as the pain abated.

She felt Kazuo standing over her in concern.

Slowly, carefully, she pushed herself up to her knees. She looked up at the ice sprite.

"Wh-why," she said hoarsely, her breath still coming in ragged gasps, "didn't you tell me?"

"She didn't want me to," he answered softly.

She sat up and wiped at her face with one hand. Glancing back at the sphere, she looked at the Snow Woman; at the image in the mirror, once again frozen in time. "The time dilation," she said. "How long was I..?"

"About seven hours," Kazuo answered. His hand strayed up to the gash on his face. "I guess I'm lucky that time in the mortal plane is moving a bit faster than usual," he said wryly.

Akane blinked. "Lucky?"

"Here." Kazuo handed Akane her katana. "While you were in the sphere, a few more demons made their presence known. I suspect the only thing that has kept them from attacking is the fact that I left the twitching corpse of that demon, that you so neatly dismembered, out in the hallway as a warning. They're still out there, and they're getting more brazen by the minute. A dead body and a katana wielded by an unskilled ice sprite won't scare them off much longer."

Akane took the katana in her hands, looking down at the blade, her mind spinning.

"I trust you do not object to... staying a bit longer... and protecting Mistress Yuki-onna while she remains thus?" Kazuo gestured at the sphere. "It takes all of her magic and concentration to access the power of her domain that she needs to battle the Amazon, while transcending the time and dimensional barriers. She cannot maintain the protective barrier around her domain that would otherwise keep the demons out."

"Protect... Yuki-onna?" Akane's voice was a trembling whisper as she continued to look down at her blade.

She lifted her eyes, and they were shining with tears. A smile was slowly making its way across her face, almost unsure, as if it had been too long since the last time it was there, and was only now remembering the way. Slowly, she rose to her feet, her katana held firmly in hand.

"Hm," she said, as her smile widened. "Just like old times."

--------------------

Akane sat with her back against the wall of Yuki-onna's quarters, her katana resting on her lap, and struggled valiantly to keep from nodding off. Her long hair was in disarray, erratic wisps sticking out of her french braid. Her face, arms and tunic were smeared with blood and ichor.

Five days. Five days had passed with the Snow Woman kneeling in her magic sphere, her hands thrust into the mirror as she battled Cologne.

Five days in which Akane fought off more demons than had ever invaded the Snow Woman's domain in a month's time.

"Where are they all coming from?" Akane had asked Kazuo wearily as he applied healing salve to her torn arm after a particularly nasty battle. "We've never had to deal with this many demons before."

"It's the Kami Plane," he answered gravely. "It doesn't like immortals interfering with the mortal plane outside of their jurisdiction... especially in this case, where Yuki-onna is helping Ranma reach the Ancient One. If... *When* Ranma succeeds in breaking the blood spell," he corrected himself, seeing the anxious look on Akane's face, "the Kami Plane will lose you back to the mortal realm."

"Oh great. And we couldn't have *that* now, could we," she said bitterly. Then she sighed. "I... I don't know how long I can keep this up."

"Hang in there, Akane. It will only be a little while longer."

But "a little while longer" had stretched into two more days. And Akane, drained and weary from lack of sleep and battle after battle, was reaching the end of her endurance.

A flicker from the sphere caught her attention. Her head snapped up, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten as she saw Yuki-onna stir.

"Yuki-san?" Akane set down her sword and went over to kneel next to the sphere. The light it cast fluxed and dimmed abruptly... and then the sphere faded away.

Yuki-onna moaned softly without raising her head. Her hands slid slowly out of the darkening mirror, and she slumped to the floor in a heap.

"Yuki-san..." Akane crawled over to the unmoving form of the Snow Woman, tears already beginning to sting her eyes. She gently turned her over and brushed the long white hair from the Snow Woman's cracked face.

She looked so... lifeless. Akane felt a twinge of panic stir in her chest. "Yuki-san... wake up... please..."

Yuki-onna's frost-blue eyes flickered open wearily. They seemed to have trouble focusing on Akane's face. "Who..?" she whispered.

Akane felt the tears brim and slide down her cheeks. "It's me, Yuki-san. Akane."

"A... Akane?" A look of happiness flashed across her pale features, only to crumble a moment later to... fear. Grief. And shame.

"Akane..." she said, tears of ice sliding from the corners of her eyes. "I'm... so sorry..."

Akane reached out and pulled the Snow Woman to her in a fierce hug. Yuki-onna stiffened in surprise... and then slumped into the girl's arms, weeping, her tears of ice melting against Akane's warm skin..

Akane couldn't stop her own tears, but she smiled gently as she held her friend in a comforting embrace.

"It's... okay, Yuki-san," she whispered through her own sobs.

"It's okay. I forgive you..."

-------------------

In the mortal realm, a long while after Ranma and the others disappeared into the low-hanging clouds that shrouded the mountain peak, the cold winter wind that had pushed and pulled, tearing at an old Amazon woman with icy fingers, slowly died out. The unseasonable ice formations ceased to grow and move like living things, and became solid and unmoving.

Cologne stared blankly at the trail ahead of her, where her prey had long since vanished.

She continued to stare in impotent fury, unable to do much else, encased, as she was, in an immensely thick cocoon of gleaming ice...

--------------------

Shampoo trudged silently up a mild incline through the increasingly dense vegetation, pushing back branches, holding them so that they wouldn't snap back in Mousse's face as he followed close behind.

Two weeks ago, she wouldn't have been so careful.

"*Can you see the trail?*" she asked him quietly in Mandarin. The barest hint of sunlight filtered through the heavy, overcast sky, and the thick canopy of trees blocked out the light even more. Mousse, unable to see the detail of the uneven terrain through his glasses in the near-darkness, had stumbled and nearly fallen on his face a few times.

"*Not really,*" he answered. "*But I'm alright. As long as I watch you, I'm alright.*"

A small smile lit Shampoo's face, unseen by any of the others. She paused, waiting for Mousse to catch up with her, and reached back to take his hand. "*Here,*" she said. "*This way, for sure, you won't run into anything.*"

A hint of color flushed Mousse's cheeks, and, though he tried to keep a stoic expression, she could see his eyes sparkle behind his glasses as he took her small hand in his large one.

He had such beautiful eyes. Deep blue-gray eyes that, even now, looked at her with love and understanding. Two things she felt she didn't deserve after what she had done. And yet, she desired that love and understanding just the same...

It was so strange. In two weeks, Mousse had changed in her eyes from constant irritant to the one anchor of stability in her life. It was he who kept her from sinking into despair and complete self-loathing. It was he who gave her a feeling of worth -- a feeling of hope that, even after her crimes against Ranma and Akane, she might still regain her honor.

But, deep down, in a dark part of her soul lit only by a spark of guilt, she still longed for Ranma...

And Mousse knew it. He knew her so well. And even though she had accepted him as her husband by Amazon law and had promised that she would seal their bond with the marriage ritual once they returned to their village, he made no advances, and did not take advantage of his lawful station, as was his right.

They shared the same tent, but he did not touch her. Not when he knew she was still wracked with guilt over her crimes.

And not when he could see her desire for Ranma, buried, but still flickering in the depths of her violet eyes.

Mousse... Sweet, blind Mousse, who spoke to rocks and trees by mistake, somehow saw the things she wanted most to keep hidden. And yet he said nothing. He just continued to offer his quiet, loving encouragement and trust that she would do the right thing.

Shampoo grimaced inwardly. *The right thing...*

She tried so hard to quell her feelings for Ranma. They frightened her, especially when she thought that her feelings of guilt and shame over her crimes had completely destroyed her desire for him.

But... seeing Ranma that morning, his dark bangs dripping over those intense blue eyes that widened in disbelieving joy... Seeing him shed his cursed female body and stand, once again, as himself, a man... The strong, handsome man she had so long fantasized of having by her side as a lover, a husband...

Shampoo swallowed, cutting off the thought. Surreptitiously, she glanced over her shoulder at the group that followed behind. Mousse, his hand wrapped gently around hers, had his eyes focused on the ground in front of him as he tried not to stumble, lest he pull her down with him. And behind him, Ranma followed, still carrying the unconscious Kuno over his shoulders. The kendoist had nearly regained consciousness a few times, but Ranma had apparently decided that he would rather carry him than deal with the idiot's reaction to finding both his pigtailed goddess missing, and his hated rival in her place. So, with the occasional swift knock to the head at any sign of wakefulness, Ranma ensured that Kuno slept a bit longer through their journey. \

Shampoo glanced at Ranma's face briefly before once again turning her focus to the trail in front of her. She suppressed the urge to sigh at what she saw in his expression.

Ranma's eyes were unfocused, his gaze turned inward even as he climbed steadily after them with instinctive ease. His face was set with anxiety, and she could tell that his thoughts were full of Akane. Akane... and the underlying horror of the past week, still haunting him against his will, even with the restoration of both his mind and his manhood...

It had been easier for her to deal with Ranma when he was trapped in the woman's body. She would look at him, look into his haunted, miserable eyes staring out of a face that wasn't his, and think to herself, *This is your fault he is like this. It is your fault he is suffering so.* That, combined with her utter lack of attraction to his female body, had smothered the burning embers of desire smoldering in her heart.

Now, however, Ranma was a man again. And Shampoo found it harder and harder to look at him without feeling her desire trying to surge to the forefront of her soul in an effort to smother the burning of her conscience, extinguish it all together... make her once again capable of placing her own desires above all else, regardless of the consequences...

Ranma was still suffering, she knew. But now, his haunted, miserable eyes stared from his own beautiful face. And Shampoo found herself, to her great shame, wishing once again that he was hers...

Mousse squeezed her hand gently.

Shampoo started guiltily, and looked over at him, wondering if he could read her thoughts.

"The mountain," he said, looking up at her. "It's just up ahead, isn't it?"

Shampoo nodded mutely, her throat feeling strangely thick, and forced a smile.

"Good." Mousse made no indication that he noticed her discomfort. "We've almost made it. Just a little bit further, and then this will all be over."

"Yes." Shampoo wanted to feel glad, relieved.

"Finally," said Ranma wearily. And, in spite of his well-earned exhaustion after lugging both his pack and Kuno's deadweight on his shoulders for a ten hour hike through the Chinese mountains, his blue eyes flickered anxiously with thoughts of Akane.

Seeing this, Shampoo turned away and continued to push through the thick foliage in front of her, clasping Mousse's hand a little tighter.

"What was that?" called Ukyo from behind. "What are you guys talking about up there?"

"We're almost there," answered Ryoga, glancing over his shoulder to look at the two girls following behind.

Nabiki let out an exhausted sigh. "It's about time," she muttered.

Kuno moaned from his position across Ranma's shoulders, and Ranma paused to rap him on the head again, before continuing to work his way through the dense vegetation behind Shampoo and Mousse.

"Uh... just curious," said Ryoga, eyeing Kuno's limp form as he hiked behind Ranma, "but when are you going to let Kuno wake up?"

"When we get there." Ranma grunted the reply without turning his head. "You know as well as I do that if he was awake, he'd just slow us down by trying to fight us. Either that, or he'd drive us crazy with his constant babbling. Believe me, it's better if I just carry him for now."

"Well, yeah, I understand that." Ryoga nimbly caught a branch that sprang back from Ranma's passage before it smacked him in the face, and broke it off at the base so that Ukyo and Nabiki wouldn't have to deal with it. It had become something of a mindless pastime for him on the long hike -- doing little things to clear the trail to make the going easier for the girls following close behind him. "It's just that... Are you sure you don't want me to carry him for a bit? I mean, you've been lugging him all day."

"I can handle it," Ranma replied shortly.

Ryoga frowned in exasperation. What was that idiot trying to prove, anyway? "I'm not saying you can't," he said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. "But if were going to be going up against a bunch of demons and a dragon in a little while, you're gonna need all the stamina you can muster."

"Thanks Ryoga, but like I said, I can handle it." Ranma's voice was calm, but the stubborn tone told Ryoga that there would be no changing his mind. "Besides, we're almost there."

"Okay, whatever." Ryoga sighed with resignation. "It's your back."

Ukyo and Nabiki glanced at each other after Ranma and Ryoga's little exchange. It was only the most recent of several similar conversations between the two boys since they started out that morning.

After the first few times Ryoga had offered to carry Kuno for a while, only for Ranma to refuse, Ukyo had frowned in concern and had leaned over to whisper to Nabiki. "Why on earth is Ranchan being so pig-headed about carrying Kuno? It's not like him to be irrational when so much is at stake, especially when he knows that he should let Ryoga have a turn so he doesn't get worn out for what's ahead."

Nabiki had sighed heavily, a strange mixture of annoyance and worry flitting through her eyes. "I'm not sure," she whispered back. "But on a guess, I'd say his stubbornness probably has a lot to do with the fact that just a few days ago, we were 'kitty-sitting' him almost 24 hours a day, making sure he was washed and fed... making sure that he didn't chew off his bandages and clean his wounds with his tongue..."

Nabiki trailed off, and Ukyo shivered unconsciously at the memory. She looked up the trail where Ranma followed closely after Shampoo and Mousse, and felt her heart ache in her chest. *And he remembers all of it,* she thought to herself.

Now, hours later, she watched Ranma climb through the vegetation ahead of her, Kuno still slung over his back, and she couldn't help but notice that, every now and then, he would tremble a little under the strain of his burden. But now, she wasn't sure whether the burden was physical, or... otherwise.

*Ranchan...*

She had hoped that, with the return of his masculinity, he would be able to put that nightmarish week, with all its soul-shattering humiliation behind him.

She had hoped, but she should have known better. She knew him too well, she could read him too easily. The euphoria from the events of that morning had worn off. And when she looked into his face, she could see that not only did the memories continue to haunt him, but that he blamed himself... he *hated* himself for not being stronger, for not being able to overcome his terror of cats. For not being strong enough to keep the Nekoken from swallowing his mind and soul.

The whispered words of the unseen Snow Woman, as she battled Cologne with a tempest of ice, resounded in her mind. *Hurry, Ranma... Akane has waited so long... too long...*

When Ukyo heard that, and then saw the horrible, stricken look on Ranma's face, she knew. He hated himself for all the lost time. She could see it in his eyes. A desperate, angry and frightened look that said, if only he had been stronger, Akane would already be home...

Ukyo wanted to comfort him so badly. But she couldn't. She felt frozen, immobile and ineffective, capable only of watching and following, until finally the ultimate outcome of this little passion play came to pass. Only then would she know her place, her correct role. And then she could say her lines accordingly.

Congratulations, Ranchan. Welcome back, Akane. I can't believe we all forgot you like that. So glad it all worked out...

Ranchan, I'm so sorry. I'm here for you, always...

Ukyo swallowed as wetness pricked behind her eyes. Either way, the roles were painful and bitter. And, on this journey through the Chinese wilderness as she followed behind, watching the man she loved just a few meters ahead, yet continually walking away from her towards... someone else...

...a tiny, long forgotten piece of Ukyo's heart began to wonder if maybe there wasn't another, happier role she could play...

"Ukyo." Nabiki's voice was low, yet it startled Ukyo from her melancholy train of thought.

Ukyo glanced over at her friend. To her surprise, Nabiki had managed to hold her own on the strenuous hike, not allowing herself to fall behind, or make the others slow down for her. Even so, she didn't have the endurance training that her martial artist companions had, and she looked worn and haggard, tired and sweaty, and thoroughly irritated.

"What is it, Nabiki?"

Nabiki gave her a sideways glance through heavy-lidded, exhausted eyes. "Listen," she whispered. Her voice seemed to echo strangely. "You hear that?"

Ukyo frowned, and turned her concentration outward.

The mountains were completely, utterly silent. The only sound came from the rustle of six human beings making their way through a mass of vines, trees and bushes as they climbed a gentle slope of hillside.

No bird calls echoing in the distance. No chitter of insects. Even the wind was dead and still.

Ukyo's eyes went wide, and she looked up at the thick leafy canopy of tree branches that stretched overhead, blocking the gray, cloud-filtered sunlight. "Creepy," she whispered.

Nabiki nodded in agreement. "I was wondering if you noticed, since you looked kind of lost in thought. But it was like all the background noise just kind of faded away all of a sudden."

Looking up the trail, Ukyo could see that the others had noticed the eerie silence that had descended across the landscape as well. Ryoga turned and looked back at them, as if to make sure they were still following. His expression was grim and alert, and slightly unnerved.

"Are you girls okay?" he asked.

"We're fine," Nabiki replied shortly, wiping her sweaty forehead with the palm of her hand. Her normally smooth, even bangs were spiked and damp. "I only hope that this sudden onset of weirdness means we're almost there."

"We there now," said Shampoo. She spoke softly, but in the silence, her voice carried back to the rest of the group. She pushed her way through the foliage to emerge in a clearing. In a few moments the others joined her.

Each of them froze in their tracks as they stepped out into the open, and gazed upward in the deafening silence.

"Boy, you weren't kidding," said Ukyo finally.

The mountain of the Ancient One rose above them, its dark, towering jagged shape shrouded in gray mist that matched the heavy, overcast sky. They stood at its base, staring at the unnatural fog that bled down the side of the mountain to swirl in cold tendrils at their feet.

Ranma stared up at the mountain, one fist clenched knuckle-white at his side as his heart pounded his chest.

*Finally,* he thought. His eyes stung as he forcibly ignored the despairing spell voices that scraped against the back of his consciousness; as he ignored the restless twinge of the Nekoken curled in the depths of his soul. *I made it, Akane. I'm coming for you...*

Mousse looked at Shampoo as he felt her hand tighten on his. "Shampoo, what is it?" he asked.

She turned to look at him, and her violet eyes were full of uncertainty. "It... it no like this, last time. No mist. No deep quiet."

Nabiki's eyes narrowed. "What exactly are you saying?" she said. She refused to allow herself to be ruffled by the obvious, disturbing presence of the supernatural. But now, the worry on Shampoo's face was evidence that another wrench was about to be thrown into the works.

Shampoo looked at Nabiki. "When I come last time to Ancient One mountain... it not so... dark. I have worse feeling..."

"It doesn't matter." Everyone turned to where Ranma stood, looking up at where the mountain peak was lost in the dark clouds. His eyes were hard with determination. "A bit of fog ain't gonna stop me." Slowly, and with surprising care, Ranma slid Kuno's unconscious form from his shoulders to the ground, followed by his pack. He looked at his friends.

"I'm going now," he said. "Are you coming with me or not?"

"We're coming, Ranma," said Ryoga, shrugging off his own pack and taking only his umbrella. "If you think I'm gonna let you kick demon butt all by yourself, you've got another thing coming."

A small smile twitched at the corner of Ranma's mouth, but it faded as he turned to Nabiki. His brow creased in concern. "Are you sure you want to stay here by yourself and watch our stuff? I don't like the feel of this place. It might be dangerous for you to be alone."

"Thanks, Ranma." Nabiki smiled wryly. "But, much as I'd like to join in your little excursion up the mountain from hell, I'm not really in any position to 'kick demon butt.' Even so..." Nabiki's smile faded as she turned to Shampoo, who was kneeling over her pack and pulling out a small wooden box. "Shampoo, I would like a little bit of reassurance that I'll be safe by myself, and that some demon isn't going to come running out of the mist to feast on my entrails the minute you guys leave me behind. You're absolutely sure that I'm safe here?"

"You be safe," Shampoo said seriously. Nabiki looked her in the eye with obvious skepticism and a slight hint of worry showing through her usual mask of indifference. "Demon guardians no can leave mountain," she continued. "And no wild animal come near dwelling of Ancient One."

"Oh, I'm not worried about wild animals," replied Nabiki as she slid her own pack off her shoulders with a grateful sigh. She unzipped it and pulled out a thick bundle of cloth. Unrolling the cloth, a glossy bluish-black piece of metal fell into the palm of her hand. "I'm just worried about creatures that aren't affected by bullets."

Everyone gaped.

"Nabiki..?" Ranma blinked in shock as, with practiced ease, Nabiki flipped the gun into her solid grip, the muzzle pointing at the sky.

Ukyo's jaw sagged. "What is..?"

"It's a Ruger .357 Magnum GP100." Nabiki smiled slightly, feeling the weight of it in her hand. "Not loaded at the moment, but I'll do that in a second." She looked around at the surprised looks on her friends' faces. "What, did you actually think I would come all this way without having some way to defend myself while you guys are gone? I may not be a hot-shot martial artist like the rest of you, but I have no intention of becoming a liability to this expedition."

"Uhh..." Ryoga swallowed. "Do you know how to use that thing?" he asked.

"Of course." She looked at him levelly. "Only a fool carries around a gun without knowing how to use it."

"Yeah. Uh, right."

"Well," said Ukyo, recovering from her surprise over one more unexpected revelation about her new friend. Still, it wasn't surprising in that she knew Nabiki kept most of her cards carefully hidden, only laying them face up on the table when absolutely necessary. She looked down at Kuno. "Hm. It doesn't look like he'll be waking up any time soon, so at least you'll have company until we get back."

Nabiki raised an eyebrow as she looked at the unconscious kendoist, not entirely surprised. After all, if Ranma didn't want to deal with Kuno on a harmless hike, it was a sure thing he didn't want him causing trouble while they were trying to run a gauntlet of demon guardians. With that last knock to the head, Ranma had ensured that Kuno would wake up, but only long after they were gone.

Which meant, of course, that she was stuck with him. "I think I'd rather face the demons," she deadpanned.

Ukyo laughed. "Let's see. A choice between fighting demon guardians and facing an ancient dragon, or Kuno's company. Hmm..." She paused thoughtfully, tapping her lower lip with an index finger. "Yeah, I think I definitely got the better end of the bargain."

"Aiya..."

Shampoo's voice, low and quiet, pulled at the attention of the group. They turned to see her kneeling over her pack, a small wooden box open on her lap. Her face was white, her violet eyes wide and full of fear.

"Shampoo, what is it? What's wrong?" Mousse was immediately at her side.

"Wards..." she whispered, looking up at him, her expression one of barely suppressed panic. "Demon wards gone..."

She should have checked the wards before they left. She should have made sure that they were safe, intact. But she hadn't. She had assumed that they were there, in the box, just as she had arranged them...

*Great-grandmother...* she realized, her eyes widening in horror.

Mousse paled. "The wards are gone?"

Ranma didn't even blink. "So we'll go without them. Wards or no wards, no stupid demon is gonna stop me from reaching that dragon."

"No!" Shampoo jumped to her feet, the empty ward box sliding off her lap and clattering to the ground. "You no understand, Ranma!" Ranma looked into her eyes, surprised at the vehemence, the intensity he saw there, so different from the quiet, withdrawn girl she had been since he had confronted her with her crimes.

"When Shampoo come here, demons almost kill," she said, her voice tight. "Wards only thing that save Shampoo. These demons, they no stupid. They smart, they know many tricks and magic to cloud mind. They faster than human, know many ways to kill mortal outsider. Only wards keep demons away, and even then they no stay away! They almost kill Shampoo. Shampoo no last one minute on mountain without wards!"

Ranma blinked as tears suddenly filled the Amazon's eyes.

"Ranma... All week when we look for cure for Nekoken, Shampoo also look for powerful wards to survive demons." Her voice was hoarse, her tone heavy with grim finality. "Without wards," she whispered, "we no survive."

Ranma stared back at her. He looked down at the empty ward box at her feet. "Cologne?" he asked softly.

Shampoo nodded. "Ranma... I sorry..." Her throat closed off. And she silently cursed her great grandmother for destroying her one chance at making things right.

Ranma looked at the ground, his bangs hanging over his eyes as a faint flicker of red battle aura flared briefly around him.

His friends watched him silently, Shampoo with despair in her eyes, for they all knew what was coming next.

When Ranma looked up, his face was set and hard. "I don't care," he said softly. His voice echoed in the silence that surrounded the mountain. "I'm going."

Ryoga sighed. "Ranma--"

"Don't tell me I can't do it," he snapped. "I don't care what it takes. I'm gonna reach that dragon and make him break this damn blood spell. I'm gonna get Akane back!"

"Jeeze, Ranma." Ryoga glared at him mildly, shifting his grip on the handle of his umbrella. "I was just going to say that I'm coming with you. Wards or no wards."

Ranma blinked.

"Me too," said Ukyo gravely. Her face was pale, her eyes wide, but her expression firm and determined. "If you think we're letting you go alone, you've got another thing coming."

"And I will come as well," said Mousse.

"Ranma." Shampoo's voice was barely a whisper. The others, they didn't understand, they had no idea what they were walking into. The thought of facing those demons without the protection of the wards made her tremble to her core. Even Ranma, with all his skill and swiftness, wouldn't stand a chance.

At least she would die with honor.

"Shampoo come too," she said.

Mousse reached out and took her hand, and she looked up at him. And, as he smiled sadly at her, she squeezed his hand, grateful, and a bit surprised at the comfort she suddenly felt as she gazed into his blue-grey eyes.

Ranma looked at his friends, silent gratitude playing across his face. Then he nodded. "Let's go then," he said. And without another word, he turned and began to climb the mountain, towards the cold, ethereal wall of mist that writhed in front of him.

His friends followed close behind.

Or tried to.

"Ungh..." Mousse smacked face first into... nothing. He backed up and peered through his glasses, trying to see what he'd run into. "What the--?!"

Ryoga followed suit, slamming into thin air none too gracefully. "Ouch," he groaned, rubbing his bruised nose.

"Ranchan!" Ukyo called. "Wait!"

Ranma turned to see his friends effectively stopped at the base of the mountain a meter or so behind him. Both Ukyo and Shampoo had their hands up like panicked street mimes, pushing desperately against an invisible wall.

"What's going on?" Ranma walked back, concern warring with his irritation at yet another delay. "Are you coming or not?"

"We can't. There's some kind of barrier." Ukyo pounded on it with her fists, causing a hollow thrumming sound to ripple through the air.

"What?" Ranma frowned, his eyes narrowing as if trying to see the obstruction. He stood facing Ukyo, and slowly reached out his hand to where her hands were pressed against the invisible barrier.

His hand passed through, encountering no resistance. "I don't feel anything," he said, puzzled. Cautiously, he stepped through and past the where the barrier was supposed to be until he was standing on the other side with the others...

...and immediately froze. *Oh no,* he thought, his eyes widening in horror as sudden realization swept over him. *I can't believe I did that! This barrier... it's probably some kind of magical security system or something. I probably tripped it off so that the others behind me couldn't get through. And then, like an idiot, I walk back out so I'm trapped on the outside as well!*

"Ranchan?"

He didn't even hear Ukyo's concerned voice. "No," he whispered. This couldn't be. How could he come so far, only to be stopped because of a misstep, a single stupid mistake? He turned to the barrier, his eyes burning, his teeth clenched.

*Akane...* He pulled his fist back and, with all his strength, slammed it towards the barrier...

...and passed right through it. Thrown off balance by the unexpected momentum, Ranma crashed into the ground face first on the other side of the barrier. "Oof!"

The others stared at him, wide-eyed. Shampoo and Ukyo reached out, hoping that the barrier was lowered somehow, but they encountered the same resistance. They pressed their hands against the barrier as Mousse and Ryoga looked on in astonishment.

"Ranchan!"

"Hey, Ranma!" Ryoga pushed against the barrier in growing frustration, seeing his friend on the other side, then pounded on it with his fist. "How did you get through?"

Ranma grunted and pushed himself to his feet. "I don't know," he said, dusting himself off. But he didn't care. He was just so relieved to find himself on the other side again, so relieved to know he hadn't blown his chance to save Akane...

Nabiki walked up and looked at Ranma through the barrier. With morbid curiosity, she reached out, her eyes widening slightly as her fingers brushed the invisible surface. It was unnerving to feel the smooth tactile sensation against her skin when her eyes told her that nothing was there.

She frowned and looked at the others. "I hate to say this, guys, but it looks to me like Ranma is the only one who's been invited into the dragon's lair."

Ranma blinked. "What?"

"No way!" Ryoga looked at Nabiki, stunned. "After we came all this way?"

Ukyo's eyes widened. "You mean... Ranchan has to go by himself?"

Nabiki nodded, her face an emotionless mask, hiding whatever inner turmoil she was feeling. "Unless the rest of you can find a way past this barrier."

"This doesn't make sense." Ukyo's face was white, her face pinched with fear. "I mean, why should it let him through and not any of us?"

"Well, he *is* the one with the dragon blood in his ki," said Nabiki, her brows knit thoughtfully. She reached out and ran her fingers along the barrier again. "And, with this unexpected development, I would have to guess that the reason Shampoo was able to climb the mountain last time, was because of that dragon ritual scroll she had. She said herself that she thought the Ancient One was bound to grant her request for its blood because of the scroll."

Nabiki looked over at Shampoo, whose eyes were wide with horrified realization. Yup, it looked like she'd hit the nail on the head again. She sighed heavily. "So here we are, without any such scroll, or anything else for that matter, and we expect to just waltz up the mountain?" Nabiki frowned. "I think the Ancient One is letting us know that we've severely underestimated him."

Ranma looked at his friends, who stared back at him in silence.

"Well then," said Ranma quietly. "I guess I'm on my own."

"No." Shampoo's voice was soft, but her eyes were wide and lit with something close to hysteria. "No, Ranma, you no go. You no face demons without wards. You come out, okay? We go get more wards, then safe to come back. Then, even if you go alone, you be safe. Akane can wait few more days. Okay? You come out now." Her lips were trembling as she struggled to keep her voice even.

Ranma looked over at the lavender-haired Amazon, whose hands were pressed anxiously against the barrier, as if hoping she could force her way through. "Shampoo..."

He trailed off as he met Shampoo's gaze... and felt his chest tighten as he saw the helpless dread in her face. He suppressed a shiver as he saw in her wet, violet eyes the pure belief that if he turned and walked into the mists, leaving his friends behind, they would never see him, alive, again.

And, for the first time, the reality of the situation pierced through his single-minded focus that had driven him to the foot of this mountain without a backward glace or second thought.

Shampoo's words echoed in his mind. *Without wards... we no survive...*

And she had said this when she believed that they would be going as a group -- a group that consisted of some of the most powerful martial artists he knew...

Ranma felt the cold mists at his back, pressing against him, filling him with a chill far deeper than the Snow Woman's cold spell. And in those mists, he could feel the weight of growing demonic malevolence behind him, feel the tingle of danger on the outskirts of his extended battle senses.

Shampoo looked at him with grief-stricken eyes... looking at him as if he was getting ready to walk to his own execution, as if he was putting his own neck in the guillotine, the sharp angled blade glittering mercilessly above him...

And Ranma Saotome, who hated to admit weakness or fear of any kind, found himself faltering. Was he ready to face those demons? Could he fight off the hordes all by himself?

Not so long ago, he wouldn't have hesitated. His single-minded focus would have carried him into the mists without a second thought. And, remembering that time, he searched inside himself, trying to find the care-free confidence that he had wielded so easily only weeks before...

...but it wasn't there.

Instead, he felt a restless piece of symbiont feline soul that had proven itself stronger than him, that had utterly defeated him, that had swallowed him whole, leaving him mindless and inhuman...

A tremor shivered through Ranma's body. How on earth could he defeat a bunch of demons, not to mention a dragon, if he didn't even have the strength to hold onto himself?

The spell voices whispered in the back of his mind, a continuous fiery murmur, searing a deepening despair into his soul.

*Akane is alive... You'll never see her again... You will fail, you already have...*

Ranma felt tears sting the backs of his eyes, and he clenched his teeth. *Akane...*

Once again, the image of Akane's anguished, tear-streaked face filled his mind, tore at his heart. And the memory of her sobbing words as she reached out for him across the planes filled him with such bittersweet pain that he felt it would overflow, that he would drown in the agony of it...

*I'm sorry... I never told you that I love you...*

As the memory flitted through his mind, he couldn't tell if the voice he heard was hers... or his own.

He loved Akane. He needed her so much, it hurt. His memories of his time trapped in the Nekoken had clarified that feeling for him, had helped him understand his need for her in a way he wouldn't have otherwise.

For, if only Akane had been there, he *would* have been strong enough to break out of the Nekoken. Just having Akane near him would have given him the strength of soul he needed to free himself, as she had done so many times before...

With her, he was complete. Jusenkyo curse be hanged. With Akane, he was a whole man. Without her...

The nearest village was at least two days away. And even then, there were no guarantees that they would find the wards they needed if they went back.

Akane was waiting for him. She had waited so long, while he had already wasted so much time...

He would fight demons, face a dragon as old as time, and stare Death in the face before he would turn back and give up now.

"Shampoo... I'm sorry. I can't explain it... but I just *know* that we can't take the time to go back for more wards." Too much time had slipped away already. He didn't fully understand the powerful need for urgency that he felt, but it was undeniable. "Even if we didn't go all the way back to Japan, it's a two-day hike back to the nearest village." Ranma looked at her, trying not to wince at the despair he saw growing in her expression with his words. "I can't wait any longer. I've got to go now."

"Ranma." Her voice was a sob. "Is no fair. I cast blood spell. It my responsibility to break. You no should have to..." The word 'die' was on her lips, and everyone heard it, though it remained unspoken.

"I'll be fine, Shampoo," he said, hoping he sounded more assured than he felt. "And... if it makes you feel any better... I'm not mad about the blood spell any more, okay?"

Shampoo looked at him, blinking tears from her eyes. "R-really?" She swallowed. "You... you no hate Shampoo?"

"Naw, I don't hate you." Ranma looked at her sincerely. "I know you've done everything you could to make things right. Besides, it's not your fault the old ghoul stole the wards. And it's not your fault that I'm the only one who can climb the mountain. So don't worry about it, okay?"

The look on his face, in his eyes... He was so handsome, so kind... Shampoo felt the old urges and desires rising again to the surface of her heart. But, with a great effort of will, she held them back.

"Okay," she whispered, even as the tears burned in her eyes. And she leaned against Mousse. Mousse, her betrothed, her husband-to-be. Mousse, with the blue-gray eyes who, while looking at Ranma with open gratitude, responded by taking her hand.

Ranma turned and glanced back into the gray mists that were waiting patiently to swallow him up. Then he looked back at his friends, who were staring as if looking at him for the last time. "Come on, guys." He lifted his head and smirked confidently -- usually an easy expression for him, but somehow, this time, it felt wrong. "You all look like you're going to a funeral or somethin'. Don't worry about me, I'll be back before you know it."

"You'd better be." Ryoga had his arms folded across his chest, and his face twisted as if unsure whether to look angry or deeply worried. Somehow he ended up looking both. "'Cause if you aren't, I'm gonna have to pound your face in."

Ranma wanted to ask how he planned on doing that if he didn't come back, but decided against it. Instead, he snorted and said, "You wish. When I get back, I'll wipe the floor with you."

"Oh yeah?" Ryoga scowled. "I'd like to see you try it."

Somehow, Ranma got the impression that Ryoga's response had a double meaning.

He looked at the others. Ukyo appeared on the verge of tears, and Nabiki's face was a tight mask of thinly veiled apprehension. Mousse and Shampoo stood together, clasping each other's hands tightly.

Ranma wanted to say something to each of them, something deeply profound that would let them know how he felt. Something that would let them know how glad he was that they had helped him, how grateful he was that they were his friends...

But that would be too final, too much like saying goodbye forever. And he didn't want that.

So he would tell them when he came back.

"Okay then," he said, clearing his throat, and looking at each of them in turn. "I guess I'll see you guys later."

"Good luck, Saotome," said Mousse gravely.

"Please," whispered Ukyo. "Be careful, Ranchan."

Shampoo swallowed back both her tears and her words, afraid of what she might say should she loose her tongue, with her warring emotions so close to the surface.

Nabiki was silent and expressionless, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. She caught Ranma with her piercing gaze, and he found himself staring back at her, wondering if he should say something else.

"Dammit, Ranma," she said finally, her voice uncharacteristically hoarse. "Just promise that you'll come back."

Ranma nodded. "I promise." His blue eyes flashed with deadly seriousness. "And I'll bring Akane back with me."

Nabiki's tense form relaxed the tiniest bit.

Ranma looked at his friends a final time *no, not final, I'll be back* and before anyone could say anything that might make him hesitate further, he turned and began to walk into the dark mists.

And the mist, like a living thing sensing that he was finally entering the lair, surged forward like a black tide, reaching out to him with cold tendrils, completely engulfing him, clinging to his skin and hair.

Ranma swallowed the sudden thick feeling of dread in his throat, and pushed back the spell voices which were once again threatening to break free from his careful confinement. Taking a deep breath and focusing, he extended his battle senses to the max and moved, tensed and ready for anything.

The nearly suffocating feeling of evil welcomed him into its embrace with an unbridled sense of gleeful anticipation.

--------------------

On a lush, green mountainside, not far from where a small group of friends huddled in the shadow of the mountain of the Ancient One, united together in fear for the life of a certain pigtailed boy...

...the warm spring sun shone down on the shattered, melting remains of a thick cocoon of ice...

--------------------

End of Part Seventeen


	19. Confrontations

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 18: Confrontations

by Krista Perry

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Buzzing.

A high, constant buzzing in his mind, making his head ache, making it hard to think.

*Ranma, please...*

And pain. White hot spears of pain impaling his chest, immobilizing him with agony.

*...can't you hear me?*

And then there was that voice, of course. A woman's voice, faint, full of fear, and vaguely familiar. The voice tickled the back of his mind like a cold, clear breeze trying ineffectually to pierce through the fiery haze of pain, the high buzzing in his head that wanted to drown it out completely.

*...please, Ranma, come to your senses..!*

Everything was dark. He felt disconnected even in his agony, ensnared in the twilight just on the edge of consciousness. He needed to wake up. And yet he couldn't remember falling asleep...

*Ranma...* A despairing sob. It called to him so faintly... he wanted to answer it, but...

"Ranma."

To his surprise, the voice sounded right in his ear.

No. This voice was new, different. A _real_ voice, full of warmth and concern, unlike the cool, indistinct cry that fluttered against the back of his consciousness...

"Ranma, are you awake?"

And Ranma realized that he knew this real voice. He was filled with sudden hope, in spite of the strange pain in his chest and the buzzing in his mind. With a surge of joy, he moved instinctively towards the new voice...

And in doing so, he left the faint, desperate, despairing whisper behind, calling after him in vain until at last it faded completely, like the last traces of some forgotten dream...

The cold, clammy darkness gradually faded. He saw the red of sunlight against his closed eyelids, felt its warmth against the skin of his face and arms.

"Ranma?"

His eyes opened slowly, groggily, and he winced against the brightness. Even so, he forced his eyes open, anxious to see her face, to make sure she was real and that he wasn't imagining things.

The sunlight streaming through the window behind her formed a perfect halo around her short dark hair. In her shadowed face, he could see her liquid brown eyes shimmering, even as her brow creased in uncharacteristic worry as she looked down at his prone form.

A weak smile crept across his face, and he inhaled slowly -- a task made difficult because of the strange spikes of pain piercing his chest.

"Akane," he breathed.

Her heart-shaped face lit briefly with a smile of relief. But then, to Ranma's intense disappointment, the smile was quickly smothered by a look of mild irritation.

"Baka," she said quietly, but her tone was affectionate as she reached out to touch his forehead. His eyes followed the movement of her small, yet strong hand, and he awaited her touch against his skin with a strange anxiety, almost a painful anticipation. Instead of the light touch of her fingers, however, he felt a damp, cool cloth slide away from his forehead.

What was going on? The last thing he remembered, he was in the middle of... of...

Ranma frowned, his brow furrowing as his mind refused to yield up the memory. He was... what? Doing something important, something urgent...

The memories and images were there, just on the tip of his mind, yet maddeningly out of reach. He knew that if only he could focus enough, concentrate over the pain and the weakness, he would have it. He would understand how he had come to be here, in his room staring up at the rafters of his ceiling, incapacitated with agony...

Still, Akane was here tending to him, as she always did when he was injured. At times like this, he strongly suspected that she enjoyed seeing him flat on his back, helpless. Still, though he would never admit it in a million years, he almost kind of liked it when she took care of him... except when a surprise visit from Shampoo, Ukyo, or both aroused her anger. Under those circumstances, he knew it was better for his health to be as far from Akane's "ministering hands" as possible...

But how did he get here anyway? He remembered going to school that morning... Akane punching him into the drainage ditch just because he was wondering where Shampoo had been all week... holding buckets in the halls... going to the Nekohanten and finding it closed with Shampoo and the old ghoul gone, and Mousse left behind...

A flicker of... something... a brief image of Shampoo... flashed into his mind so quickly...

But it made no sense. It was like the memory of some long-faded dream. Shampoo was kneeling before him, crying. Her apron was stained with blood... and he had something... a cassette tape... in his hands... and he was _so_ angry...

What the hell did that mean?

Aughh, he _hated_ this! Why couldn't he remember what had happened to him?

Angrily, he tried to sit up. But the sharp pain in his chest surged with his slight movement, causing him to gasp at its intensity as it seared his insides and stole his breath away. Jeeze, it felt as if someone had driven a dozen thick nails into his chest...

"Ranma!" Akane cried out in alarm.

Ranma's vision glazed briefly as he struggled for focus, tears of pain pricking in the corners of his eyes. He wanted to ask Akane what had happened to him, why did he hurt so bad, and why was his head buzzing so strangely? But the pain in his chest caused the air to leak from his lungs in a wordless hiss, and he crumpled back onto the futon with a quiet moan.

Akane stared at him, her eyes wide and frightened. One hand reached out to him anxiously, yet she didn't touch him, as if afraid that by so doing, she would hurt him even more.

Ranma blinked at her, trying to focus over the pain.

"Are..." Akane swallowed. "Are you okay?"

He hated to see her so worried. He nodded, since it hurt too much to speak, and gave her a rather faded version of his cocky smirk.

Akane sighed heavily, a bit of the tension draining from her face, and dipped the wash cloth into a bowl of water next to the futon. "Idiot," she said, somewhat irritably. "What do you think you're doing, trying to sit up already?" She looked into his face briefly, her brown eyes flickering, but then she dropped her gaze to the water basin next to her. "You need to rest. You're still running a high fever, and you're in no shape to be moving around yet."

Ranma closed his eyes and focused over the white hot spears in his chest, trying to deepen his dangerously shallow breathing.

_Still running a fever... Am I sick? I never get sick. Unless... Did Happosai give me that super-cold of his again?_

He heard the tinkling rattle of ice in the bowl, followed by the rushing sound of falling water as Akane wrung the cloth of excess moisture. A moment later, the cold cloth was on his forehead again.

His chest hurt, and he couldn't seem to shake the buzzing in his head. But that was a minor thing. He could focus over the pain. He had to know what was going on. He had no idea how he'd come to be in this condition, and he felt anger and frustration over his helplessness building within him.

He opened his eyes and saw Akane watching him, the irritation on her face warring with obvious distress. Ranma felt his frustration fade slightly. For some reason, the sight of her made him want to just relax and allow his questions to wait. She was by his side, she would take care of him, and then when he was feeling better, she could tell him what had happened...

The buzzing in his mind droned on, gradually building in intensity.

Ranma grimaced. No. In spite of the strong temptation to just relax and sink back into unconsciousness with Akane watching over him... he couldn't shake the urgent nagging feeling that told him he needed to be awake and alert, that he needed to clarify his fuzzy memory and find out why he felt as if...

...as if...

"Akane..." It hurt to talk. It hurt to _breathe_. He hated this. He had to find out what was going on. "What..?"

"Quiet." Her voice was sharp, but then her expression softened, and with it, her tone. "Don't... don't talk, okay? You'll only make it worse."

Ranma was incredulous, and yet the pain prevented him from voicing his retort. _Make _what_ worse?_ he thought in frustration. _What the hell happened to me?_

He closed his eyes briefly. _Focus. You've felt worse pain before... can't remember exactly when at the moment, but that doesn't matter... _

_Focus... _

_Okay. Better. _The strange spikes of pain in his chest ebbed slightly with his concentration.

Now breathe. "Akane..."

Akane gave him a warning glare. "Ranma, if you don't cooperate, I'm going to call Doctor Tofu."

"But--"

"No," she said firmly. "Now be still. Otherwise, you won't get better."

"Dammit, Akane..." No way was he just gonna lay there without knowing what was going on. Especially since his urgency instinct was practically screaming at him. Carefully, he pushed himself up with his elbows. The pain lanced through him, sharper than before, and he clenched his teeth against a cry of pain that wanted to escape.

"Ranma, stop it." Akane's voice had gone from firm to hard as stone, and her tone matched her gaze.

"No way." Ranma's voice was a wheeze, the pain was almost unbearable, but still he continued to push himself into a sitting position. He could feel himself trembling, his eyes were watering uncontrollably, but he focused over it all. "Not until you tell me--"

At that moment, everything changed.

In a flash, Akane was gone, as was his warm sunlit room. He was shrouded in darkness. A cold, thick mist plucked at his skin with moist tendrils. And he found himself staring into he face of...

...of...

The face was gone. Or rather, there was almost nothing left of it. A few scraps of rotting skin and stringy clumps of long black hair clinging to an exposed, decaying skull. One watery, dissolving eye stared at him from a hollow socket.

And Ranma felt someone behind him. Someone who was pressed against his back, who had their arms wrapped tightly around his torso, almost in the attitude of a lover...

Looking down in numb horror, Ranma saw dead, gray arms holding him in a firm embrace; saw skeletal, ghostly fingers plunged through his red Chinese shirt... and into his chest...

...but before he could scream, the living corpse standing before him lashed out with a rotting hand...

Sunlight flashed in his eyes.

"Ranma!" Akane's face was pale, her eyes full of fear as she grasped his shoulders, pinning him down to his futon as he thrashed against her. "What's wrong? Please, lie still, you'll hurt yourself!"

Akane. Akane shouldn't be here. She had disappeared with the blood spell... He was trying to get her back...

_He_ shouldn't be here, at home, in his room. He was in China. On the mountain of the Ancient One. Fighting demons.

He remembered.

And the strange high buzzing in his head slowed. Slowed until he realized that it wasn't a buzz at all, but... voices.

*Akane is alive... You'll never find her, you'll fail, you already have...*

Spell voices.

And though Akane's hands appeared healthy and human, he could feel the slime of rot and the hardness of exposed bone against the flesh of his shoulders. He snarled, fighting against the daggers of pain in his chest. "G-get your hands off me, you dead bitch..."

She held him more tightly, even as her beautiful brown eyes filled with tears and her lips trembled. "Doctor Tofu!" she called. "Come quick, Ranma's hallucinating again! Please hurry!"

Hallucinating... Was he hallucinating? It couldn't be. He _knew_...

"Ranma, please, listen to me! It's the poison. Kodachi slipped something into your food, but she mixed up her powders or something, 'cause you've been delirious for three days, muttering about dragons and blood spells and stuff. But it's not real!" Akane was crying. "Please, snap out of it, Ranma!"

And the feel of Akane's strong grip was once again warm and smooth and human against his shoulders.

Ranma blinked, his eyes glazed in pain and confusion. He'd been drugged? He was hallucinating?

Akane... wasn't missing? She wasn't trapped in the Kami Plane?

She was really here... with him?

Ranma paused in his struggle as a surge of uncertainty flooded through him.

Akane felt him pause, but still she held onto him, grasping his tensed shoulders. "Ranma," she whispered. "Please believe me."

He wanted to believe her. Very badly.

The blood spell, the demons... the Nekoken... all the pain and suffering... nothing more than a drug-induced hallucination?

He looked into Akane's tear-streaked face.

She was so beautiful. And something whispered to him that if only he would trust her, if only he would relax, the drug would pass from his system and he would recover, his mind would clear, and things could be like they were before...

_...before the blood spell..._

As the thought flitted through his mind, he suddenly remembered another Akane, looking a little different than the one that knelt next to him now. Her hair was inexplicably a bit longer, falling to her shoulders, but he remembered thinking that it might be a side-effect of the blood spell. He saw her in his mind's eye, surrounded by glittering walls of ice, reaching out to him, calling to him...

Telling him that she loved him.

And he loved her.

Ranma blinked, fighting to clear his pain-fogged mind.

All of his realizations, his soul searching, his honesty with himself about his own feelings... nothing more than a drug-induced hallucination?

_No..._

It couldn't be. The thought that it might be true left him stunned with despair. And yet here he was, with Akane right next to him, kneeling over him in concern... shouldn't he be happy?

As Ranma fought through the haze of his inner confusion, the spikes of pain pierced deeper into his chest, and he cried out.

Doctor Tofu burst into the room, followed closely by Nabiki, Kasumi and Genma.

"Akane, what happened?" Tofu demanded.

"I don't know," she said tearfully, not letting go of Ranma's shoulders. "He started trying to get up and then he just went crazy."

Ranma struggled to focus. Focus over the pain, focus over the insanity... He had to know what was true!

Doctor Tofu approached him. Ranma watched him with tearing eyes, focusing desperately through his pain and confusion as the man he trusted knelt next to him...

As he focused, the sunlight flickered.

And so did his friends' humanity.

Tofu, Kasumi, Nabiki, his father... Akane... their images flickered with those of corpses, reaching out to him with decaying arms... He was being surrounded by the dead. And he could feel cold dead arms still wrapped around him, feel the ghostly fingers in his chest...

Akane's hands were slime and bone against the skin of his shoulders.

_This isn't Akane!_

It's the drug, something whispered to his mind. Only the drug. My, Kodachi certainly got carried away this time...

"Hold him." Tofu's kind, concerned face looked down at him as the rest of his friends pinned him down. "I'll touch his sleep points and end this."

He reached out to Ranma's throat with a hand that flickered between whole, healthy skin and grey, rotting flesh.

"No." Ranma's voice was a hoarse rasp through his pain. He strained against the hands that held him down, looked around desperately, seeing the concerned faces of his loved ones... Akane, Kasumi, Nabi--

Kasumi. He looked at her, met her calm gaze. She smiled at him gently, encouragingly, as if to say that everything would be all right.

Ranma's eyes narrowed, and he glared at Doctor Tofu.

"No," he whispered fiercely. "_I'll_ end this."

And Ranma's battle aura flared an intense bright red around his prone form.

Tofu's outstretched hand paused. Akane and the others abruptly released him and shrank back. "W-what are you doing?" she asked, a bit fearfully.

Focus past the pain. "Gonna... release a ki blast." He couldn't look at her. He didn't dare, out of fear that the sight of her tear-streaked face would crumble his sudden resolve. "So you'd... better stand... back if you don't want... to get hurt."

Tofu was alarmed. "Ranma, don't do this. You're in no shape to--"

"Sorry, doc." Ranma clenched his teeth. Focus. _Focus._ "Way I see it... if you're my friends... you'll know to trust me and... get out of the way. If you're demons... I don't care if you let me go... or stay and get blasted. Either way... I'm gonna know the truth."

"This is insane. Ranma, please... There _are_ no demons, it's just the poison in your system..."

Ranma's ki flared more brightly.

"You're sick. You don't want to hurt your friends, do you? You wouldn't hurt Akane, would you?"

"Ranma, please!" Akane's voice tugged at him, but he didn't look at her.

Instead, he looked at Tofu, focused above the pain, and grinned slightly. "Mouko..." he whispered.

The sunlight disappeared, plunging him into cold moist darkness. Doctor Tofu and the others... Akane... shimmered and changed into decaying, wraith-like corpses. They hissed and shrieked as they swiftly backed away from him, shrinking away from the power of his ki, retreating into the black mist.

He was standing. Looking down at his brightly flaring body, Ranma saw ghostly fingers withdrawing hastily from his chest. The dead arms released his torso and slid away... and the pain vanished.

Ranma blinked in surprise, his glazed eyes clearing as the last traces of the spell trance that held him faded away. Then, with a snarl of fury, he straightened and whirled to face the wraith that had just released him, his hands held palm outward before him.

"...Takabishya!" he finished.

The ki exploded from the palms of his hands, hitting the wraith dead on. The creature shrieked and disappeared in a flash of light.

Ranma stood, panting slightly as he looked around, his senses extended, tensed and ready for another attack.

The multitude of dead watched him from a safe distance in their shroud of mist.

A trickle of cold sweat ran down the side of his cheek. Damn. That had been close. They nearly had him. They had surrounded him with the people he loved and trusted the most so that he would be content to remain in the wraith-trance until he wasted away.

If he hadn't noticed Tofu's uncharacteristic calm competence in the presence of Kasumi...

"Very clever, boy," a voice rasped. Ranma turned to see one of the dead leering at him from the darkness. Grim intelligence flickered in yellowed, bloodshot eyes that had not yet begun to decay. The crumbling face smirked. "But don't get too confident. We are not demons, but mere Kuei. If you were snared by us, the weakest of the guardians, you don't stand a chance against what lies ahead."

A ripple of sardonic laughter echoed around him from the other demented souls. Ranma clenched his teeth and focused his ki until his hands were glowing red with it. The dead instinctively shrank back, wary of the power he now wielded openly in his hands, knowing that he would not be caught again.

Ranma turned and began to make his way up the mountain once again, following the narrow trail that wound its way up the incline through the mist.

_If you were snared by us, the weakest..._

His jaw ached, his teeth were clenched so tight. Damn. How could he have been so careless?

But then, he knew how. The scene replayed itself in his mind with merciless clarity.

Upon entering the mists at the base of the Ancient One's mountain, he had found himself immediately surrounded by Kuei. He knew of them, knew what they were from stories he'd heard on his previous trip to China. They were the Vengeful Ghosts, the souls of those who had perished in some unspeakably violent manner; their single purpose: to make the living suffer as they suffered.

Ugly as they were, the stench of their rotting wraith bodies assailing his senses, they were almost unbearably easy to defeat. Ranma moved through them swiftly, fighting them back, his body aflame with his carefully controlled battle aura, adrenaline thrumming through his veins.

He fought, and felt the pleasure of the heady rush of battle, the feel of his body moving with powerful, instinctive ease through the forms of the Art that had been ingrained into his very soul... Ranma felt the flame of his confidence, that had been crushed out through the events of the past few weeks, reignite in his heart with searing heat, burning away the shadows of his doubt. He found himself smiling grimly as the Kuei fell back from the onslaught of his attack.

He was Ranma Saotome, heir to the Saotome School of Indiscriminate Grappling Martial Arts. Shampoo had been worried for nothing. He could take this mountain, and anything on it, easy!

And then, the voice.

A voice, so full of anguish, terror and despair... It called his name.

Ranma recognized the voice, would have recognized it anywhere in the world. It pulled at his soul the way nothing else could. In mid-battle, surrounded by Kuei, he paused. And turned towards the sound, her name forming on his lips...

She wasn't there, of course. There was only mist. Mist, and more Kuei, reaching out for him with cold, dead arms. And as his mind screamed _Idiot!_ as he realized his mistake, it was already too late. His guard down for a mere split second, his defenses were breached with inhuman speed and he felt himself grabbed from behind...

Damn.

He couldn't allow himself to be deceived again. He wouldn't allow them to use her as a distraction. No matter what illusions were thrown his way, he could not... _would_ not succumb. For, he knew, she wasn't here. There was no way she _could_ be here. The blood spell kept them apart, separated by dimensions, and if he let himself be fooled again...

He would not be fooled again. He had to reach the Ancient One.

He had to get Akane back.

The mocking voice of the leering dead man followed behind him, echoing up out of the black mists.

"You'll see, boy," it called. "You are on your noble quest now, but you'll be joining us soon enough, one way or another. You will die, slowly, painfully, as we all did, and your soul will be trapped here, forever, at the base of this cursed mountain. You will join us. And when the next poor fool tries to climb the mountain, it shall be you who will sink your ghostly fingers into mortal flesh; it shall be you who will take pleasure in feeling their life slip away..."

Ranma shook with anger and barely suppressed fear. He wanted to turn and silence the voice with a blast of ki from his hands. But he had to conserve his energy. He could feel the evil ahead of him, much stronger than what he was leaving behind.

Damn. That had been too close...

--------------------

The Snow Woman sighed heavily, the frost slowly vanishing from her mirror. As the frost melted away, so did the image of the mortal realm, of Ranma continuing up the mist-shrouded mountain of the Ancient One.

Finally. She had nearly given up hope when Ranma hadn't responded to her telepathic plea across the dimensions as she desperately called to him, fighting to free him from the Kuei trance...

But Ranma was free now. And, to her amazement, he had freed himself from the trance under his own power. Such strength of spirit, even after all he had suffered! Yuki-onna turned from her mirror, reaching up with one hand to brush a few strands of shimmering white hair from her face, her expression both relieved and troubled. He would need that strength for what lay before him.

She would not tell Akane of this new development, of course. Akane knew nothing of Ranma's progress up the mountain of the Ancient One. Akane didn't know that, for the past three weeks whenever Yuki-onna had used her mirror to scry on her fiancé's progress, the image that greeted her eyes remained unchanged.

Ranma, slumped in the deadly embrace of a Kuei, his blue eyes glassy, staring sightlessly from under heavy lids, his face slack and pale as he slowly weakened, slowly wasted away...

No. Akane didn't know about Ranma's close call. She didn't know of anything that had transpired in the mortal realm after the bleeding mists of the Ancient One's mountain swallowed Ranma whole. And it was just as well. It was a mutual agreement between the two of them, that Akane should not know how Ranma fared.

At first, Akane had been furious at her suggestion that she remain in the dark regarding Ranma's welfare. "Why won't you let me see him?" she had yelled, her expression both angry and pleading. "I have a right to know how he's doing, if he's safe or not..."

"I do not think that is wise, Akane," she replied softly, imploring her to understand. Though the girl had suffered a great deal during her time in the Kami Plane, she was still young and inexperienced in some things. She had no idea what kind of torture lay in store for her, should she choose to use her mirror to track Ranma's progress.

Her own frost-blue eyes grew clouded and distant for a moment, remembering a long forgotten memory reborn, an unwanted vision of pain bestowed upon her from her iced mirror...

Her husband, Shin, his face twisted with grief, tears streaking his cheeks as he tried ineffectually to comfort his two young daughters. He held the girls, gently stroking their hair as they clung to him, weeping loudly, begging to know where Mother was, why she had left them, why she didn't love them any more...

That single image had haunted her mirror for months.

"Time moves so slowly in the mortal realm," Yuki-onna whispered hoarsely. "A moment there lasts hours, days, even weeks here. What if something happened to Ranma? What if, while fighting demons, he were injured? Could you bear it, seeing him frozen in pain day after day, unable to do anything but watch helplessly?"

And Akane's anger had drained away as she realized, with something akin to horror, that the Snow Woman was right. Seeing Ranma suffer in real-time was hard enough, but to watch a single brief moment of agony, stretched out over weeks? Seeing whatever danger that Ranma might be in, and yet being completely powerless to do anything at all to help him? Even though she felt sure that he would eventually triumph, the doubt she would feel during that infinitely long moment would be there, gnawing at her heart -- the fear that something _might_ go terribly wrong...

"Will you... watch over him then?" Akane asked. Her voice trembled, in spite of her effort to sound casual. "You don't have to tell me what's happening... but I would feel better, knowing that... that..." Her throat closed off, and she bowed her head, unable to continue.

"I will watch over him, Akane. And I will do what I can to keep him safe."

Akane nodded once, not raising her head, and she brushed at her eyes with the back of one hand. Her fingers came away wet.

"One request," she finally whispered. "If he... if anything..." Akane paused, took a deep breath. "If... the worst happens..." She lifted her head and met Yuki-onna's frost blue gaze, her own eyes wet, but determined. "I want you to tell me. I don't want that kept from me."

Yuki-onna smiled sadly and placed her hand on Akane's shoulder. "Agreed."

So, in spite of almost unbearable curiosity about Ranma's welfare and progress up the mountain, Akane stayed far away from Yuki-onna's mirror. She kept herself busy doing other things; exactly what, Yuki-onna wasn't sure. She knew that a portion of Akane's time went to defending her realm from demonic invasion. But the demons had been coming less and less, it seemed, cowed by both the knowledge that Akane had returned, stronger than ever, and some demented spark of self-preservation that pierced their dim intellects. \

Yuki-onna didn't mind anything Akane did, as long as it kept her from dwelling on Ranma. As long as it kept her sane until the blood spell could be broken and she could return to him--

**Snow Woman.**

Yuki-onna jerked, her eyes widening at the unexpected telepathic intrusion. The mental voice was powerful, deep and raw, tinged with dark amusement... and vaguely familiar. She frowned. **Who--**

**An old friend.** She could hear the cruel smile in the voice. **Don't tell me you've forgotten our time together already. I'm hurt.**

The Snow Woman felt her heart tighten with sudden unspeakable dread. No... It couldn't be...

And then she felt it.

A prickling at the edges of her realm, a sudden dark smothering sensation in her chest...

--------------------

"What... is _that_?" Kazuo raised a bristly white eyebrow, his nose wrinkling slightly as Akane cheerfully placed a heaping plate of... something... in front of him.

Akane smiled smugly, ignoring the blue-skinned ice sprite's sudden grayish pallor. "It's rice, octopus balls, and shrimp tempura. Don't worry, everything's completely cooled. It won't burn you at all."

Kazuo pushed the plate away with one finger. "That's _not_ what I'm worried about."

Akane frowned, but managed to squelch the spark of her anger that wanted desperately to flare up in response to the Ranma-like insult. Two and a half years of being on her own, during which she had been forced to eat her own cooking, however, had dulled the razor edge of her righteous indignation. Necessity had been an unmerciful sensei, and during that time of isolation, she _had_ managed to master rice... more or less.

Okay, so her attempts at creating more... exotic food... were still miserable failures. She had finally gained a small appreciation of why Ranma had always been so reluctant to eat her more enthusiastic creations. Still, now that she once again had access to the Snow Woman's food-laden pantry, and had a chance to practice a bit more...

"You haven't even tried it yet," she said with remarkable calmness.

Kazuo didn't blink. "Have _you_ tasted it?"

"Well, no, but--"

"Akane-san." Kazuo eyed her with level seriousness. "I have already informed you on several occasions that I refuse to sample your dubious culinary experiments until after you have tasted them yourself, and only then after I am sure there are no lingering side effects."

Akane exhaled a sigh that was almost a huff. "Fine then." She knelt across from Kazuo, tossed her thick braid over her shoulder, and pulled the plate towards her. "I'll prove it to you, if you insist on being that way." Picking up her chopsticks, she scooped up a blob of rice and stuck it in her mouth.

She chewed.

Swallowed.

Kazuo watched her face carefully.

Akane smiled brightly and pushed the plate back over to Kazuo. "See? It tasted fine. Now eat it."

"So the rice is passable. You didn't try the octopus balls. Or the shrimp."

Akane's smile became a bit strained, and she pulled the plate back over with slightly more force than she intended. Some of the rice spilled over onto the table. "You're being a pain, you know," she said, annoyance creeping into her tone as she picked up her chopsticks.

"I'd much rather _be_ a pain than be _in_ pain."

Akane's strained smile melted into an outright scowl, and she picked up a rather dribbly-looking octopus ball. She stared at Kazuo defiantly as she popped it into her mouth whole.

Her eyes immediately began to water uncontrollably as every instinct in her body screamed to disgorge the alien object attempting hostile invasion. Conscious of Kazuo's gaze, however, she summoned all of her will power, fought the instinct back... and chewed.

Kazuo watched her face in open fascination, and a little concern, as sweat began to streak down her forehead. Her skin had turned the faint color of pistachio pudding. "Akane-san..."

She began to tremble as, with supreme effort, she continued chewing, her jaw working up and down frenetically. Finally, with a deep, primal shudder, she swallowed.

A sickly smile made its way across her face, even as tears streamed from her bleary eyes. "See?" she croaked triumphantly. "No prob-- _hurk_ --lem." With a shaky hand, she pushed the plate back across the table.

Kazuo looked at her mournfully. "Do you really hate me that much, Akane-san?"

Akane didn't immediately respond, focused, as she was, on controlling the roiling in her stomach. She swallowed hard once, twice... and briefly shook her head "no" since she didn't dare open her mouth to speak.

Kazuo sighed. "Would you... like me to get something to settle your stomach?"

Akane looked at him, her pistachio-tinged face suddenly etched with undisguised misery as she continued to swallow, her hands white knuckled as she clenched the edge of the table with both fists, and nodded.

A short while and a few of Kazuo's special herbs later, Akane knelt at the table and stared at the heaping plate with dismay and disgust. "I don't get it. It _should_ have turned out okay!" She sighed heavily. "Looks like I'll just have to try again."

Kazuo closed his eyes, his chiseled expression slightly pained. "Akane-san, I beg of you. Stick to fighting demons. It's not as dangerous."

Akane glared at the ice sprite. "Thanks so much for the encouragement," she said dryly, still feeling a bit too queasy to work up any real anger.

Kazuo merely nodded in reply, either not noticing, or simply ignoring her sarcasm as he stood and gingerly picked up the plate, holding it carefully at arm's length. "I'll dispose of this now, unless you have any objections."

Akane sighed, and made a half-hearted dismissive gesture. After Kazuo left the dining room, she groaned, sagging over the table with her head in her hands.

It wasn't working. She was trying so hard to keep occupied, to keep her mind off of Ranma, and what might be happening to him on the Ancient One's mountain. But nothing seemed to help. Not fighting demons, not practicing her martial arts... And during this, her latest cooking attempt, all she could think about was that she had to learn to make something edible so that she could cook something wonderful for Ranma when she finally returned to the mortal plane...

When. Not if. She knew Ranma would break the blood spell, no matter what the odds were against him. And Yuki-onna was watching over him. The Snow Woman never told her how he fared, but then no news was good news.

It didn't matter that, whenever Yuki-onna emerged from her chambers after scrying through her mirror, her frost-blue eyes were dark and clouded with unspoken worry. Akane didn't _need_ to see Ranma through the mirror, for she saw the look in Yuki-onna's eyes, she saw the fear for Ranma that lay there, and her heart would twist painfully with the dreadful certainty that Ranma was in grave danger, that he was probably hurt or wounded in some way...

But she knew he was alive. The Snow Woman's continued silence on the matter ensured that small comfort. And as long as Ranma was alive, she knew he would come for her--

Akane froze. Slowly, she lifted her head from her hands, her brown eyes wide and alert.

The faint stirrings of an instinctive dread tickled the back of her consciousness, and she felt the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck rise with the shiver of gooseflesh that ran down her back.

In moments, she was on her feet and running for the main hall, her katana unsheathed and ready.

Another demon, just barely emerging from the mists that surrounded the realm. And a strong one, from the feel of it; not at all like the wimpy, mindless creatures of lust and evil that usually invaded.

Akane smiled grimly as she ran down the corridor towards the entry way. Good. It had been a few days since the last attack, and she needed something on which to vent her bottled frustration. This demon felt like it might actually be a challenge.

With growing enthusiasm, she turned the final corner to the crystalline doors that led outside... and skidded to a halt in surprise.

The Snow Woman stood in the open doorway, looking out across the glittering white landscape of her domain as the strange, sunless twilight settled across the land with the onset of evening.

"Yuki-san," Akane gasped in surprise. She had thought the Snow Woman would be in her quarters, where she usually stayed for protection whenever demons strayed into her realm.

Yuki-onna turned slowly to face her, and Akane blinked in surprise. The Snow Woman's face, smooth and white, yet still lined with the traces of old ki burns, was haggard with fear.

"Akane," she said. "You do not need to face this demon. My barrier is in place; it will keep the demon out."

Akane stared in disbelief, as if waiting for the punch line. But there was not even a flicker of humor in the Snow Woman's steady, frightened gaze.

After a long moment, Akane slowly reached back and sheathed her katana. "What's going on?" Her voice was calm and serious, effectively hiding the dread building within her at this change in procedure, at the terrible expression on Yuki-onna's face. "Do you know what's out there?"

Yuki-onna glanced over her shoulder at the expanse of her domain. "I never knew..." she whispered. "I... didn't realize it was so powerful." The sky was turning dark, the first stars began to glitter in the cold sky. "It's toying with us."

Akane's flaring impatience at her friend's cryptic response overwhelmed her growing dread. "_What_ is?" she snapped in exasperation. "Yuki-san, I'm supposed to protect this place. How can I do that, when you won't tell me what's going on? What is it out there, that you don't think I can fight?"

Yuki-onna looked back at her. Her expression was tentative and fearful; her eyes shimmered with icy tears. "Akane," she whispered. "I'm sorry. This is my fault..."

Akane blinked. _Her_ fault? What could she possibly have to do with this demon that was out--?

And then she froze. Akane's eyes widened as abrupt understanding pierced her mind with painful clarity. The blood drained from her face, leaving her nearly as pale as the Snow Woman herself.

She knew.

And the scars on her shoulder and leg throbbed in remembered pain...

"Oh..." she gasped, "no..."

The voice that penetrated her mind at that moment was a dark and mocking sing-song, as if just waiting for her to realize--

**Akaaaan-eeeeeeee...**

Akane's mouth was dry, her mind numb, unwilling to acknowledge the communication that sent her skin crawling, as if a million insects were creeping, scuttling all over her body.

**Akaaaneeee... where are you? Hiding behind this barrier? Cringing behind walls of ice? What a cowardly little girl you are.**

How long had it been? Two, three months? More than enough time for a beheaded demon to pull itself together...

**Dear Akane, I can't tell you how disappointed I was to come back to life and find that your decaying corpse was nowhere to be found, to find that your trail of blood vanished without a trace....**

Yuki-onna felt cold anger stir along side the fear in her breast at the Shadowcat's words. Her white fists clenched as she turned to look out at her darkening domain, and saw nothing but the expanse of snow. The barrier was kilometers away; even if the demon was in her line of sight, it would be too far away to see with normal vision.

**Shadowcat,** she snarled mentally, reaching out with her mind openly, knowing the dark beast would hear. **You will leave my domain at once. You cannot penetrate my barrier, and I will not let you near Akane.**

Akane shot a surprised glance at Yuki-onna as the Snow Woman's mental voice touched her mind. _I didn't know she could do that..._

The Shadowcat's chuckle echoed in both their minds. **Such rudeness from an old friend. Ah, well, I'd hate to overstay my welcome. I just wanted to stop by before I went on my way, to let you know that I won't be bothering you further.**

Akane's eyes, wide in her pale face, narrowed in suspicion. It was just going to leave? What was the Shadowcat up to? She could feel the dark hatred bleeding from the demon's mental voice, she could feel the black desire for vengeance seeping from every saccharine-sweet word...

**Yes,** continued the Shadowcat, **much as I'd _love_ to see dear Akane face to face once again... I happen to have other more important business to attend to.**

Akane felt her insides clench, felt cold sweat break out in tiny beads along the surface of her skin. There was only one possible thing that the Shadowcat might desire more than exacting vengeance on her... but that was impossible. There was no way the Shadowcat could return to the mortal realm... not without being summoned, or without the Snow Woman's help, right?

**You see,** said the demon, **there is a certain fixed place in the Kami realm, where the veil between the planes is very thin, and easily torn. Through this weakness in the veil, demons may come and go to the mortal plane as they please.**

"No." Akane spoke aloud, not knowing or caring if the Shadowcat could hear her physical voice. "That's not possible. If you could go to the mortal realm any time you wanted, you would have done it a long time ago." That was it. The demon was bluffing, trying to bait her. It was sending these horrible words into her mind, knowing that it could not hear her reply, just to goad her, to draw her out...

The demon seemed to know what she was thinking, even if it couldn't hear her words. **Ah, but you're probably wondering, if there was a way for me to reach the mortal realm without being summoned or sent, why I haven't done so before now. The answer is simple. I've never had the desire to use this unique portal to the mortal realm until now... because it is a _dead end._**

Akane blinked. _A dead end?_ She looked at Yuki-onna in confusion, but the Snow Woman just shook her head in bafflement, her brow creased with worry.

**You see, on the other side of this fixed portal in the mortal realm, is a mountain. And on this mountain lives a very ancient, very powerful creature who imprisons the demons that stray from the Kami realm. He imprisons them so that they are unable to leave the mountain and wreak havoc on the mortal world. Thus, the demons are frustrated captives on this mountain. Needless to say, they kill any unfortunate mortal who dares set foot within the boundaries of their confinement.**

Akane felt the strength trickle from her legs, and fought the urge to sink to her knees. _Oh no..._

It couldn't be. And yet it _did_ explain the presence of so many demons on the Ancient One's mountain...

**If it makes you feel any better, Akane dear, you should know that I have the utmost confidence in Ranma's ability to survive those demons. Most of them are nothing more than the general mindless rabble you face on almost a daily basis... and Ranma is so _deliciously_ strong, after all.** Akane could almost hear the Shadowcat licking its chops in anticipation. **And, just think, he'll be so much stronger when he's lost in the power of the Nekoken once again. Why, those demons won't stand a chance.**

Akane's vision blurred; her eyes stung, even as they sparked in sudden anger. "You..!" she snarled. She couldn't think of a name vile enough -- and the Shadowcat couldn't hear her anyway.

A situation easily rectified. Unsheathing her katana with swift grace, she took a determined step towards the open door.

Yuki-onna faced her, unmoving, blocking the way, her face creasing in alarm as she saw the intent in Akane's expression. "Akane, no, you can't..."

"Like _hell_ I can't--"

**Akane.**

Akane broke off as the demon's voice abruptly lost the saccharine edge, and grew deadly quiet and serious.

**I was very upset to discover that you had severed the link between myself and my little pet, Akane,** the Shadowcat whispered in her mind. **But it is only a minor inconvenience, actually. For I know where he is.** The demon chuckled softly. **I know where he was planning to go the night I took him -- did you know he was in the middle of packing? And of course, there was all that time I spent, linked with his transformed soul, feeling his anguished longing for you, even when he couldn't comprehend the reason for that feeling... Yes, I knew exactly where he would go, were he ever to break free of the Nekoken.**

Akane choked in tearful fury. "That's it." Her ki blazed a fiery blue-green, licking along the gleaming steel of her blade. "That demon is _dead_!"

But Yuki-onna didn't move. "Akane, _listen_ to me," she pleaded. "The Shadowcat is lying! Even if it returns to the mortal realm, even if it confronts Ranma on the Ancient One's mountain, it can't trap him in the Nekoken again!"

Akane glanced at her sharply. "What do you mean?"

Yuki-onna didn't answer. Instead, she spoke to the demon, allowing Akane to hear the communication. **It is useless, Shadowcat. I am calling your bluff. For even if you do re-capture Ranma and restore the Nekoken link, I have removed my cold spell from him. The first time his curse activates, your link with him will disintegrate.**

Akane listened, and a flicker of hope lit in her wet eyes.

But the Shadowcat laughed.

**We'll see.** The demon was frighteningly unperturbed by this piece of knowledge, and continued with unruffled confidence. **Anyway, it is no longer your concern now. Akane, by all means, stay here, safe behind this barrier where my claws cannot rend the flesh from your bones, where my teeth cannot tear out your throat and my tongue lap up the spreading pool of your blood. Stay here. Grow _old_ here. And when you have a spare moment, be sure to look in on your young fiance in the mortal realm through Yuki-onna's mirror. His humanity will be lost, his mind will be gone, but rest assured, he will be longing for you just the same.**

Akane looked up into the Snow Woman's face, her expression one of terribly controlled fury, even as tears streaked down her face. "Yuki-san." Her breathing was heavy, her voice hoarse with emotion. "Step aside. Please."

The Snow Woman shook her head. "I can't. Akane, please... The Shadowcat will kill you."

Akane's eyes flashed. "Better that than allowing it to steal Ranma's soul again!"

"You don't know what you're saying."

"I know _exactly_ what I'm saying. I'm going to kill that demon, once and for all, no matter what it takes."

"No!" Yuki-onna stretched out her arms as Akane took another step forward. "You barely escaped with your life the last time! And you even had the protection of Susa-no-o's magic!"

**Farewell, Akane.** The Shadowcat's mental voice was once again saccharine sweet. **Enjoy the rest of your life, cowering behind this barrier, like the weak girl you are.**

The Shadowcat's presence slowly faded from her mind.

Akane's eyes lit in panic. "It's leaving. Let me pass, Yuki-san! I have to stop it!"

Yuki-onna looked at her miserably. "Even if I let you pass, you wouldn't be able to penetrate the barrier."

"So drop the barrier!"

"I can't."

"You _have_ to!" Akane's face contorted in grief and rage. "Don't you see?! This is all YOUR FAULT!"

The Snow Woman reacted as if she'd been slapped. She raised a shaky hand to her cheek as icy tears slipped down her face.

"I know," she whispered. "And I'm sorry."

Akane blinked, and a flash of guilt crossed her features, only to drown a moment later in the fury and grief in her expression. A thousand hurtful, scathing replies came to her mind, along the lines of how just being sorry wouldn't save Ranma, and, a little late for that now, isn't it?

The Shadowcat was leaving. She could feel it. It was leaving, and it was going after Ranma just when he was so close to breaking the blood spell, and it would use Ranma's only weakness to destroy his soul, his humanity, and she would lose him forever, and she would be trapped in the Kami Plane forever without a hope of rescue, and she would never see her family again, and she would grow old and die here alone while Ranma suffered a fate worse than death...

Akane's fists clenched around the hilt of her katana, her aura flaring a terrible blue-green. With an incoherent cry of anguish, she reached out with one hand, and forcefully pushed Yuki-onna aside.

The Snow Woman staggered and leaned against the doorway, looking after her with despair. "Akane..."

But Akane was gone, out into the snow, and she ran, heedless of Yuki-onna's voice calling after her.

Long blue shadows crept across the pristine white landscape as the sky darkened, but Akane didn't notice. Her vision swam with tears. Her legs pushed through the heavy snow with swift automation, leaving deep, dragging tracks behind her. The cold wind numbed her wet face and whipped her long hair from its loose braid, but still she ran, stumbling, falling, pushing herself back up time and again...

And then the barrier rose before her, shimmering with translucent iridescence. The rainbow colors that rippled across its surface were visible even in the growing darkness. And beyond the barrier, the black Mists of Kami were visible, swirling and writhing in a dance of chaos.

Akane stood before the barrier, her breath, coming in heaving gasps, puffing before her in white clouds of moisture as her lungs burned from the cold. Her hair and clothes were matted with wet snow. Gulping a lung-full of crisp air, she swiped angrily at the tears stinging her eyes with one hand and hefted her sword with the other. Melting snow slid down the gleaming metal blade.

Her attack was silent and swift... and utterly ineffective. The glowing edge of her katana struck the barrier with a _clang_, painfully jarring Akane's arm, and slid harmlessly across the surface. "No," she whispered. She stared through the barrier at the black mists, her body tensed, her brown eyes wet and flat. "Let me out..." She struck again. And again. "No! Let me out, dammit! I have to save him!" She began to attack it in a frenzy, snarling in a blind rage as her blade raked across the barrier without causing the least bit of damage.

But then a small part of her that was still rational realized that this barrier kept out the Shadowcat, with its razor claws and the power of the Nekoken...

Her katana slid from limp fingers. A moment later, Akane sank to her knees, shaking, her cries of fury dissolving into shuddering sobs.

Why was this happening? She had tried so hard to be strong, to be brave... but she just couldn't do it any more. Almost five years in the Kami Plane, constantly clinging to one hope after another, only to have it wrenched forcefully from her heart again and again...

Minutes passed. Gradually, her sobs trailed off into numb silence. The tears slipped down her face and fell into her lap like the quiet, light rain after a thunder storm. The snow against her legs was melting, seeping into her leggings as she knelt, unmoving.

"Akane..."

Akane tensed at the Snow Woman's voice behind her. She wanted to jump up and run away, but knew there was nowhere to run. She wanted to turn and scream at her, to curse her for ruining her life. But she was too tired. She felt so drained, sapped of both energy and will... She wished the cold could seep through her skin, past bone and muscle and vitals, to numb her soul, to numb the horrible pain that throbbed there without hope of relief.

"Akane..." Yuki-onna's voice was small and weary. "I am truly sorry. But... I couldn't let you face the Shadowcat."

Akane absorbed her words in silence. She didn't raise her head. She just sat there facing the barrier and the mists beyond.

"It would have killed you."

Akane snorted softly.

Yuki-onna sighed. "You know I'm right, Akane. You are skilled, but this demon is too powerful. You told me once yourself that the Shadowcat would have killed you in its lair, had it not been for its overconfidence allowing you to penetrate its defenses, not to mention that you would have died anyway if Susa-no-o had not transported you here. Do you think the Shadowcat will make that same mistake again? We both know it is too clever for that. If I had allowed you to face the Shadowcat, it would have killed you, and then it would have gone to the Ancient One's mountain and taken Ranma, with no one to stop it."

"It will anyway." Akane stared into her lap. Her voice was lifeless, and hoarse from weeping. "You've made sure of that now, haven't you."

The Snow Woman fell silent. But the pain that flared in the space between them was palpable and deafening under the cold night sky.

A small part of Akane's heart, that wasn't hardened and numbed from pain, felt guilty for saying such hateful things. And as the silence lengthened, Akane began to wonder if Yuki-onna would respond to her harsh words at all, or if she would just leave without saying a word.

Yuki-onna took a shaky breath. The sting of Akane's words burned in her heart, because...

...because somewhere, deep in her soul, beyond the altruistic desire to protect Akane, to save her life... the accusation rang true. Could it be that, even in her attempt to save Akane from the Shadowcat, and in spite of her good intentions to reunite her with Ranma... she was merely finding another excuse to keep Akane here in her domain, where it was safe?

Where... she would not have to be alone?

_Please, Akane, don't leave me here alone..._

Tears of ice slipped down the Snow Woman's face as she looked at Akane's form, hunched in the snow, shuddering with both the cold and the force of her silent weeping. The girl's long loose braid fell down her back, and clumps of melting snow clung to its length.

No. She could not leave it at this. Even if Akane hated her for the rest of her life, she had to do whatever she could to make things right. Her actions had taken the priceless life of an ancient friend, had nearly cost the soul of an innocent boy, and had driven the one she thought of as her own daughter to the edge of sanity.

She was sorry, so terribly sorry for all of it.

But just being sorry was not enough.

A slow, sad smile lit her white, lined features as the familiar, hollow ache of loneliness filled her chest. A mere whisper of what she knew was in store for her in the days, weeks and years to come in the endless stretch of eternity...

The Snow Woman closed her eyes, and sighed.

Akane, staring numbly into her lap, noticed a strange flicker at the edge of her sight. Slowly, she looked up in surprise. The Mists of Kami swirled before her, unobscured by the rainbow translucence of the barrier.

"Go save him, Akane." Yuki-onna's voice was soft and thick. "But please... don't chase after the Shadowcat rashly. Remember what Masakazu taught you. You can't help Ranma if you're dead, after all."

Akane raised her head and turn to look over her shoulder at the Snow Woman, her numbed expression flickering with both genuine confusion and cynical disbelief. "You're... letting me go?"

Yuki-onna laughed. The sound was full of pain. "Of course. You are not my prisoner, after all. I merely wanted to keep you from getting killed so that you could live to fight another day. A day, perhaps, when you were better prepared to face this persistent demon."

Akane blinked as the Snow Woman's words filtered through the throbbing ache in her heart, thawing the awful numbness and soothing the pain...

She could leave. Sure, she didn't know where the Shadowcat was, or where the thin, easily torn veil between the planes lay, but if she left now, there was a chance she could find it and stop the Shadowcat before it reached Ranma, before it once again stole his mind and humanity and shredded the remainders of her existence asunder...

And yet, Akane found that she was... scared. Terrified. Afraid to grasp hold of the hope that Yuki-onna was dangling in front of her. Why bother even trying, the bitter, numbed part of her soul whispered. Just wait and see, no matter what you do, it never makes any difference anyway. You've been in the Kami Plane for nearly five years now, and what have you accomplished, other than learning how to quarter a mindless demon in three seconds?

_I saved Ranma from the Shadowcat_, a smothered spark of Akane's living fire whispered desperately.

Yes, but the Shadowcat is alive again, isn't it? And it's going after him again. All that for nothing.

_No. Not for nothing_. The spark flared; seared through the numbness with determined fierceness. Akane trembled with the force of it; tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. _Not for nothing! Ranma is himself again! And he's coming to save me!_

Masakazu's words, advice from countless sparring sessions where she ended up flat on her back, tired and bruised and thoroughly discouraged at her seemingly infinitely slow progress, suddenly resurfaced in her mind. _It's only when you fail to rise after you have fallen, that you have truly lost._

She knew that. Of course she knew that. Oh... what would Masakazu think of her, losing control like that?

The excuses came tumbling from her mind in a torrent. The pressure was getting to her. Not knowing how Ranma fared on the Ancient One's mountain, just waiting and waiting and waiting in a constant state of suspense... it was wearing away at her frayed emotions. And the Shadowcat's taunts had pushed her over the edge. The demon actually convinced her that it was all or nothing, that it was now undefeatable, and she had been ready to rush into its waiting claws in a futile, suicidal attempt to stop it...

Yuki-onna had wisely stopped her.

And Akane had repaid the favor with cruel words, spoken in the heat of anger.

_Is this what I have become?_ she thought remorsefully. _Am I so childish and petty that I have to inflict pain because of my own misery?_

All this, after her months of training with Masakazu to learn how to control her tongue and her temper and remain calm in the face of crisis... and she couldn't even control herself when it mattered most...

_You lose your focus, you lose the battle._

Akane's eyes burned once again, but this time with tears of shame, blurring the dark Mists of Kami before her.

"Yuki-san..." Akane slowly turned, feeling too drained to stand, to face the Snow Woman. She felt the tightness build up in her throat at the sight of the intense sadness on her friend's face, and couldn't suppress a hiccupping sob. Her vision swam with tears, blinding her. Her eyes were useless, and she brushed at them with shaking hands. "Yuki-san, I'm suh-sorry..."

For a moment, there was nothing but those words hanging in the air between them.

Then Akane felt the Snow Woman's arms around her shoulders, holding her in a desperate embrace of comfort. "It's all right," Yuki-onna whispered brokenly. "It's all right, everything will be all right..."

Akane stiffened instinctively as the Snow Woman enfolded her in the hug. Strange panic surged within her chest. She didn't know how to react. The Snow Woman had never hugged her before. And the last time anyone had touched her with such kindness was...

...was...

She couldn't remember. Oh, she had been glomped a lot, but that didn't count. Even thinking back to before the blood spell, before she was torn from the mortal plane, she couldn't remember her last hug. Not even from her family. Kasumi was always kind, and smiled a lot, but she had never hugged her, not like this. Nabiki? Of course not... And her father cried a lot, but she couldn't remember him hugging her, at least not since...

...since she told him not to. It was embarrassing, she said, she wasn't a little girl any more, she didn't need to be hugged, she didn't need anybody, she was fine just by herself, thank you very much, she could handle it _alone,_ she didn't _need anybody_...

The Snow Woman held her.

And, for Akane, it was as if all the tiny cracks that had been eating away at her own inner barriers for the past five years, and even longer, gave way at last under this final touch of compassion.

_No!_ she thought, in a vain attempt to keep the barrier, her last defense, from crumbling.

But instead of the flood of agony that she expected to engulf her with her defenses of anger and stubbornness finally swept away, there was instead, to her surprise, a curious sensation of... comfort. Comfort so exquisite, that it was almost pain itself.

With a great heaving shudder of relief, Akane threw her arms around the Snow Woman's waist, and wept.

They held each other, mortal and immortal, mother and daughter, though neither could say who was mother and who was daughter. And in that strange, defenseless moment, Yuki-onna and Akane understood each other perfectly. The deep hollowness in their souls of guilt, regret of past actions and foolish words, and a seeming eternity of loneliness... All were filled as they clung to each other, both knowing, with the clarity that comes only from being true kindred spirits, what now needed to be done. Both knowing that this would be the last time, perhaps, that they would see each other again.

Yuki-onna knew that Akane would leave her now to save Ranma, to stop the demon Shadowcat. But that was all right. And as she held Akane close, feeling the girl's relief and love for her, and feeling the emotion reciprocated from her own heart, the icy tears that streaked her face seemed strangely warm. If she had cared, she might have noticed the last trace of cracked, blackened skin fading, washing away forever under those tears...

They wept together, neither speaking, just holding each other tightly as they knelt in the clean white snow under a clear, sparkling night sky.

--------------------

"Bakusai Tenketsu!"

Ukyo and Nabiki winced slightly as the explosion of rock and dirt showered them with tiny bits of debris.

Ukyo sighed, shook the dirt out of her long hair with a flip of her head, and pushed herself to her feet, unable to sit still any longer. She was trying very, _very_ hard to keep the fear and anxiety that she felt building within her under a semblance of control, and Ryoga's tunneling blasts weren't helping her focus.

Nabiki turned from where she knelt by her pack, and frowned in mild irritation, watching as Shampoo and Mousse leaned over the edge of the increasingly deep crater.

Mousse adjusted his glasses, trying in vain to peer down into the darkness of the pit. "Well?" he called. "Any luck?"

"It's no good!" Ryoga called up, frustration evident in his voice. "The barrier just keeps going. I don't think the Ancient One is going to let us tunnel underneath it."

"_I_ could have told him that," Nabiki muttered quietly as she began to carefully load her .357 Magnum. "Honestly, they're just wasting their energy. If a dragon, who's been around for a few millennia, placed a magical barrier to keep us from climbing his mountain, I don't think he'd be so stupid as to equip it with such an obvious weakness."

"Well at least they're _doing_ something," Ukyo responded glumly. "I hate all this waiting around."

Nabiki snorted mildly. "Well, if it will make you feel any better, by all means, go whack the barrier a few times with your spatula."

Ukyo turned and scowled, her ire rising at her friend's flippancy, but found that Nabiki wasn't even looking at her. The Tendo girl was seemingly absorbed in the task of slowly, methodically sliding cartridges into the chambers of her gun. Annoyed, Ukyo looked over at where Mousse and Shampoo were helping Ryoga climb out of his crater, and felt her teeth clench involuntarily. She _would_ have taken on that barrier if she thought it would do any good. But after watching Ryoga's Shishi Houkodan dissipate against the invisible surface without even causing a flicker, she knew it would be a waste of energy. Just as Nabiki said.

Ukyo rubbed a hand over her face, trying to calm her irrational anger. She knew Nabiki wasn't trying to offend her, but sometimes she found her new friend's method of dealing with things hard to understand.

It wasn't that she didn't understand what it was like to wear a mask over her emotions. After all, during the ten years she'd masqueraded as a guy, she got plenty of practice hiding her true feelings. She could count on one hand the times in her life that she'd cried...

If she didn't include the past two weeks, that is.

Ukyo's eyes glistened, the now-familiar ache of loss welling within her...

She swallowed, forcing the feeling back.

No time to think about loss right now. Barrier or no barrier, she had to figure out a way to help Ranma. It was just too infuriating that, after everything she had gone through, here she was, stuck helplessly at the base of the mountain in the oppressive silence, wondering what Ranma was doing, wondering if he was fighting demons, if he was hurt, if he was still alive...

Ukyo shook her head forcibly. He was alive. He had to be. Ranma was the best fighter among them. Nothing, not even a horde of demons, could stop him when he was determined.

Yet even as she grasped for comfort with that thought, the memories of just a few days previous rose unbidden. Memories of kneeling by Ranma's side as the Shadowcat drained away his ki until he lay, pale and weak, at the brink of death. She had wept then, in grief and fear, clinging to his limp hand, feeling the faint, erratic flutter of his slowing pulse beneath her fingers...

"Hey. You okay?"

Ukyo blinked and looked up to find Nabiki looking at her. Nabiki's face was calm, like the smooth surface of a pond untouched by wind. The piercing clearness of her gaze as she looked into Ukyo's eyes was the only indicator that she had spoken at all.

"I'm fine," she replied automatically, but she could feel the worry playing across her own features, feel the tension in her body, belying her words.

Nabiki's eyes flickered slightly, as if analyzing Ukyo's state of mind for herself. Then, after a brief moment during which Ukyo felt as if Nabiki would stare right through her, she nodded slightly, and snapped the cylinder of the loaded Magnum back into place. Placing the gun carefully on the crumpled cloth she'd wrapped it in, she then turned and began to nonchalantly dig through her pack, pulling out various supplies as if getting ready to set up camp.

It was only then that Ukyo realized that Nabiki believed they were going to be waiting at the foot of this accursed mountain for quite some time.

Ukyo watched, and as she did, felt a disturbed knot form in the pit of her stomach. Whether it was the slow calm of Nabiki's preparation, or the absolute apathy that seemed to permeate her friend's countenance that bothered her, Ukyo couldn't tell. She knew, of course, that Nabiki was not the heartless mercenary that she had perceived her to be not so long ago. During the week they spent together taking care of Ranma, she had caught several glimpses of the compassion and tenderness that lay underneath Nabiki's cold mask. She knew Nabiki cared for Ranma, and that her loyalty and love for her family seemed to know no bounds.

But... it seemed that whenever crisis threatened, whenever the situation became desperate and hopeless... the more Nabiki turned cold and hard; the more her iron countenance of emotionless calm deepened to the point of being unnerving.

Right now, Nabiki's face seemed almost inhuman in its utter lack of expression.

Ukyo sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. She wasn't the only one suffering. Looking over at Ryoga, Shampoo and Mousse, she saw that even they were beginning to despair. Shampoo sat slumped against the invisible barrier, her arms wrapped around her knees, her eyes dull and wet. Mousse and Ryoga were once again debating, with voices carefully lowered in the quiet that surrounded the mountain, whether they should try to find another way around the barrier, or if they should try again to force their way through with brute strength.

They were all on edge. Ranchan was up on that cursed mountain alone, facing who-knows-what. And ever since he had disappeared into the mists beyond the barrier a little over an hour ago, the mountain had refused to show any sign of what battles might be taking place on its slopes. Which either meant that nothing was actually happening, or that their little company was somehow being kept from hearing or seeing any evidence of Ranma's struggle against the demon guardians.

For some reason, she strongly suspected the latter. The deadly quiet lay heavily on the landscape like a shroud, and the unnatural absence of any outdoor background noise was seriously grating on her.

"I hate this," she muttered, but her voice carried, and Nabiki looked up at her again. She grimaced. "This stupid silence is getting on my nerves," she explained.

"Ungghhhh..." A soft moan issued from the crumpled form of Kuno, lying on the ground a few meters away. A moment later, he lifted his head and looked around blearily.

Nabiki raised an eyebrow at Ukyo that was almost accusing, as if blaming her words for somehow reviving their garrulous companion. "Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about the silence any more," she said dryly. She glanced over at the stirring kendoist. "Welcome back to the land of consciousness, Kuno-chan."

"Oh great," Ukyo mumbled, immediately regretting her complaint. She was _not_ in the mood to deal with Kuno babbling on about his 'pigtailed goddess.' Not when Ranma's life was in such great danger. Not when there was no way for her to find out what was happening to him, or if he was even still...

"Nnnn... Wherefore..." Kuno groaned, trailing off and blinking unsteadily as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Reaching back with one hand, he gingerly probed the back of his head, wincing as his fingers encountered swollen lumps, evidence of the numerous blows he'd sustained.

"Ow," he said, almost absently. He was almost used to this method of waking up, but that didn't make it any more pleasant. He blinked again and looked around.

And looked up.

Kuno's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the mist-shrouded mountain that towered over them.

"What is this?" he demanded as he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. His eyes widened a bit further as the sound of his loud voice pierced through the heavy silence.

"This, Kuno-chan," Nabiki answered without looking at him, "is the mountain of the Ancient One."

Kuno turned and favored Nabiki with an imperious glare, which she blithely ignored. He loathed the presumptuous familiarity with which the Tendo girl consistently addressed him, and knew that she did it merely to anger him. He refused to rise to the bait, however, having long ago learned that neither threat nor bribe could make her cease that particular annoyance.

"If this indeed is the dwelling place of that most vile serpent who holds my love captive," he said, lowering his voice slightly in the unnerving stillness, "how is it that I have come to be here? Truly, I can recall naught of the journey."

"Ranma carried you," Nabiki replied shortly.

Kuno's brow furrowed. "Ranma..?" Then he recalled that his poor, enchanted pigtailed goddess was calling herself by that name, and the scowl on his face dissolved into a knowing smile. "Ah, what devotion," he said reverently. "Truly, she must love me well."

He turned and began looking around for his fire-haired beauty, feeling a slight twinge of disappointment when he did not immediately find her radiant face among the frowns that greeted him from the Chinese barbarians, and the jealous scowl that adorned the face of that vile Hibiki....

Kuno's train of thought was abruptly cut off as he found himself jerked around by the front of his tunic.

"Okay, that does it." Ukyo's face was hard and angry as she released his shirt and stared into Kuno's surprised face. "Look, you pompous moron," she said, her voice low and intense. "I'm gonna tell you this once, and that's it. Your 'pigtailed goddess' does not exist, okay? Ranma is a _guy_. He's always been a guy, but he's got this stupid Jusenkyo curse that changes him into a girl whenever he's hit with cold water, and even _then_, he's _still_ a guy. Why can't you get that through your thick head?!"

Kuno gazed at her coolly, seemingly unfazed by her words, and smoothed the front of his tunic. "Under other circumstances," he said, "I would be forced to avenge my goddess' honor from such unholy slander. But given your own androgynous nature, and your obvious lack of familiarity with your own femininity, it is easy to comprehend how you could be so easily misled in terms of the pigtailed girl's true gender. For truly, she exemplifies all that is bright and beautiful in womanhoo--"

_crack_

The force of Ukyo's slap rocked him back on his feet. As Kuno regained his bearings, raising a hand to his reddening cheek, he was surprised to see that Ukyo's narrowed eyes were wet and glistening.

"You shallow, self-absorbed, blind bastard." Her voice was full of quiet venom. "You wouldn't know a real woman if she was standing right in front of you."

Kuno blinked. The force of her words struck him more powerfully than her slap. His mind was numb, he couldn't think of a reply.

"He's not worth the trouble, Ukyo," Nabiki said flatly. "We've tried explaining Jusenkyo to him a million times, and he's still too thick-headed to get it."

"Damn straight," Ukyo agreed vehemently. She had been _so_ tempted to flatten Kuno with her spatula, but then had relented at the last moment. The guy obviously needed all the undamaged brain cells he could muster. And so, giving Kuno a glare that made him, the noble-blooded descendent of samurai, shrivel slightly where he stood, she turned with a flip of her long chestnut ponytail and stalked off towards the others.

Kuno stared after her a moment, feeling a sense of strange unease flit through him, like a sudden chill, as if his usual equilibrium had been tilted askew. Shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the feeling, he turned to Nabiki, anxious to reestablish the status quo. His upper lip curled into an approximation of a sneer.

"This Jusenkyo again," he said disdainfully. "I thought better of you, Nabiki Tendo. I am not the fool you take me for, eager to swallow this most preposterous fairy tale you've concocted to keep me from my goddess. Your story that Saotome..." Kuno's face crinkled in distaste. "...and my beloved goddess are one and the same, is an obvious fabrication, a fairy tale the likes of which has no place in reality."

Nabiki blinked, then raised her head and looked him in the eyes, her face betraying nothing. "And I suppose your fairy tale is so much more believable?"

Kuno blinked again. "My..?"

"Yes. You know, the fairy tale where Ranma is a 'foul sorcerer' who has enslaved your pigtailed goddess? Sorcery or Cursed Springs." Nabiki shrugged. "You're free to choose your own fantasy, Kuno. I'm a strong believer in individuality. But if I were you, I'd be worried if my own narrow perception of the world went against what everyone else claims to be true."

Nabiki's eyes flickered slightly as the thought of Ranma and his "imaginary blood spell girl" flitted through her mind. The whole reason they were here in the first place was because of a reality only Ranma remembered. They had come here based on his story and the evidence of a tape recording and a few pictures, and nothing more. Even now, her own memory told her that Akane didn't exist.

They had placed all their trust in Ranma's mind, something that she had usually considered a risky venture under the best of circumstances. And now he was gone, up the mountain to face demons, leaving them alone. Leaving _her_ alone, with all her little niggling doubts and fears...

The corner of her mouth quirked up in the tiniest ghost of a smile. "Then again, Kuno-chan, you never know. You just might be the sane one after all. And wouldn't _that_ be a kicker."

Kuno glowered down at Nabiki, trying to cover his growing disconcertion over the turn this conversation had taken as he struggled to come up with an appropriately condescending reply.

He never got the chance to speak.

For at that moment, the Amazon girl behind him gasped. "Great-grandmother!"

Kuno turned at the cry to see Shampoo on her feet, staring with wide, horrified eyes at the elder Amazon, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. The others were staring at her with equal amounts of shock and fear, yet they immediately fell into battle stances. Ryoga's umbrella was in hand, and Ukyo's battle spatula rested in her white-knuckled grip. Mousse came immediately to Shampoo's side, his hands disappearing into the drape of his long sleeves.

The old woman stood a mere meter away from Shampoo, and was seemingly unconcerned that she was out-numbered and weaponless as she glared at great-granddaughter.

Kuno noticed that her Chinese robes and long white hair hung heavy and damp against her diminutive form, as if she had been caught in a rainstorm a short while ago...

"Where is Ranma?" Cologne looked directly at Shampoo, ignoring the others.

"Give it up, old ghoul," snarled Ukyo, her battle aura already flaring around her body as she clutched her giant spatula. "Can't you see you've lost? There's no way in hell that Ranma's going to go with you, no matter what you do."

Ryoga glared at Ukyo, but she didn't notice. What was she trying to do, get Cologne angry? Didn't she realize how powerful the old woman was? _He_ knew. He had trained under her to learn the Bakusai Tenketsu. He had seen her power as a martial artist. And if it came down to a fight, even if they all took Cologne on together, he still didn't like the odds...

Cologne didn't take her piercing gaze from Shampoo's face, but she laughed. "So sure, are you?" she replied. "We'll see about that."

Shampoo met her great-grandmother's gaze and swallowed the growing fear she felt thickening her throat.

She should have known Cologne would not give up; that mere ice and snow would not be enough to stop her for long. For she knew what motivated her great-grandmother, knew that admitting defeat to Ranma and letting him go free rather than adding his strength to the tribe were no longer concessions she was prepared to make.

Not since Shampoo cast the blood spell, at least.

Cologne had warned her. She had told her again and again that casting the blood spell was the point of no return, and that using the forbidden magic would irrevocably commit them to their course.

And yet, in spite of her great-grandmother's reservations, Shampoo had insisted that they go ahead and cast the spell.

Since then, Cologne could no longer sit by passively and allow Shampoo to handle her own life, her own mistakes. For if the Tribal Council discovered that they had stooped to casting a blood spell to obtain Ranma as Shampoo's husband, and yet _still_ failed, the punishment they would receive for the terrible dishonor would be death... or worse.

And now Shampoo could feel the Amazon matriarch's determination, radiating from her with the power of her battle aura. And she knew that, no matter what, Cologne intended to take Ranma back to the Village and keep him there. How she intended to accomplish this, though, Shampoo couldn't guess.

There was a part of her that wanted to plead with Cologne to forget about the blood spell; that wanted to beg her to forget about Ranma and help make things right. They didn't have to tell the Council what had happened! And so the Council would never have to know about her terrible mistake, and they could go on with their lives...

And yet another part of her... the part that still longed for Ranma, still lusted after his beauty and his strength and power... wanted Cologne to succeed.

But none of her desires really mattered anyway. Because, at the moment, Ranma was completely out of reach.

"Shampoo." Cologne stood calmly in front of Shampoo, her hands tucked inside the folds of her robes. "Where is he?"

"You too late, great-grandmother." Shampoo forced a smile, in spite of her conflicting emotions. "Ranma already go up mountain."

Cologne's eyes widened, then narrowed in disbelief.

Kuno reacted as well, blinking in surprise at Shampoo's words. He couldn't believe it. The pig-tailed girl was already on the accursed mountain, without him by her side to protect her? And the others had let her go alone?! His countenance darkened, and he stepped forward, opening his mouth to deliver a fierce rebuke to the others, when, from behind him, Nabiki suddenly grabbed his arm and pinched it hard.

"Quiet, you fool!" she whispered into his ear with a fierce intensity. "Don't you _dare_ say a word. The situation is bad enough as it is, and I swear to you on my mother's grave that if you open your mouth right now, _you will regret it_."

Perhaps it was the power of Nabiki's words. Perhaps it was the atmosphere of the Ancient One's mountain, saturated with enchantment and heavy with dread. Perhaps it was his stinging cheek, still smarting from Ukyo's slap. Perhaps it was the terror of this mysterious old woman that was so evident on his companions' faces. Or perhaps it was the uneasiness that had been building in him since he awoke under the shadow of this accursed mountain, that finally broke through his insipid exterior and penetrated him to his core.

Whatever the reason... Kuno remained silent.

After a moment, he felt Nabiki's grip slide silently from his arm as he continued to stare at the strange scene unfolding before him.

Cologne seemed oblivious to Kuno, or any of the others. Her bulbous eyes narrowed as she stared at Shampoo. "Do not lie to me, child," she said tightly. "Ranma is not on the mountain. You have no wards. And we both know that to climb the mountain without wards is death."

"She's not lying," said Mousse, with a calm that belied the anger and apprehension in his face. "Ranma left to climb the mountain over an hour ago. We would have gone with him, but there is a barrier around the mountain that won't let us through."

Cologne glanced over at Mousse sharply, knowing that if he did not speak the truth, she'd be able to see it in his face. Though his robes could conceal a multitude of various weapons, the boy could never hide anything in his expression.

She frowned severely as she saw that he spoke the truth, and turned back to Shampoo in anger. "How could you let him go up the mountain without wards, girl? Ranma is of no use to us if he's dead!"

Shampoo's eyes widened in disbelief at what she was hearing. "What you saying?! You steal wards so we have to face demons with no protection!"

"I took the wards to _keep_ you from climbing the mountain," Cologne snapped back furiously. "I had no idea any of you would be foolish enough to go without them!" She sighed heavily, almost a groan. "Then again, I should have known better than to underestimate Son-in-law's foolishness. Well, there's nothing for it now. We'll just have to hope he comes back safely."

Mousse's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "And then what?"

"That is none of your concern, boy." Cologne looked at him levelly.

"It is my concern," he replied coldly, ignoring the frantic, silencing look Shampoo was giving him. "For your information, Shampoo has given up her claim on Ranma, and has chosen to marry me."

There was a long moment of penetrating silence. Cologne's expression didn't change, but her battle aura flared around her diminutive form.

"Absolutely not," she said, her voice deadly serious. "I forbid it."

Mousse clenched his fists. "You _can't_ forbid it! As an Amazon male, my claim to Shampoo's hand is greater than Ranma's!"

"So." Cologne smiled slowly, grimly. "You defeated Shampoo in combat, is that what you're saying?"

Mousse's anger faltered, and he glanced over at Shampoo. Seeing the distressed look on her face, he knew that he had made a mistake. Shampoo said that he had defeated her... but really, all he did was hold her arms to keep her from striking him when he had confronted her with her crime of casting the blood spell. And, if he was to be perfectly honest, he didn't know if he could actually defeat Shampoo in real combat. He'd never had the desire to find out. The thought of fighting Shampoo... of hurting her...

Cologne read his expression easily, and nodded with satisfaction. "It is as I thought," she said calmly. "You have no claim, Mousse. Shampoo is a warrior, and she will be joined with a man who is worthy of being her husband, who can produce strong heirs to strengthen the tribe. You are not, and never have been that man. You are a weak, blind, sentimental fool, and a disgrace to our Amazon tribe."

Shampoo gasped, her heart constricting within her chest as she saw Mousse crumple under the sting of the harsh words. Cologne had often been strict with him in the past, but, until now, she had always treated him with some measure of... fondness. For her to say such a thing, denouncing him as an Amazon...

Mousse cast a glance at Shampoo, then straightened, his eyes flashing under his glasses as he looked down at the matriarch. "Fine," he said. "If being an Amazon means betraying my friends through treachery and lies and dark magic, all for the sake of some outdated code of ethics, count me out. I want nothing more to do with you, or your stupid laws."

Cologne's eyes narrowed, and her battle aura flared a fiery red, but Mousse stood his ground. "Ungrateful wretch," she spat. She turned on Shampoo angrily. "What do you have to say for yourself, girl? Surely you don't expect me to believe that you intend to seal this farcical marriage to this pathetic coward? Not when Ranma is nearly yours to keep?"

Silence settled on the group as all eyes turned to Shampoo. She stood, her face expressionless and pale as she stared at her great-grandmother.

Sudden fear, that had nothing to do with Cologne, creased Mousse's face as he looked at Shampoo.

"Is he?" Shampoo whispered at last. "Ranma is on mountain of Ancient One, surrounded by demons, with no wards. If he return at all, he will return with Akane." She trembled slightly. "How can you say Ranma is mine to keep?"

She tried to ignore how, as he heard the longing in her voice, Mousse's face settled into a solemn, quietly hurt expression.

Cologne smiled, seeing the desire on her great-granddaughter's face. "Trust me, Shampoo," she said softly. "Ranma will come with us back to the Village, and he will come willingly."

"No way!" shouted Ukyo.

"More tricks? More of your black magic, is that it?!" added Ryoga.

Shampoo didn't hear them. For she now knew for certain that Cologne had a way to ensnare Ranma once and for all.

And she wanted him... so badly...

Almost against her will, she turned her head and met Mousse's hurt gaze. And as he looked into her eyes and saw what lay there, his expression crumbled to one of despair.

"Shampoo..."

Poor Mousse. He was such an idiot, sometimes. Overly emotional, almost always overreacting to everything, too outspoken for his own good... Great-grandmother was right. Mousse _was_ a weak, blind, sentimental fool.

Poor, stupid, foolish Mousse, to love her the way he did, in spite of the things she had done, in spite of the stains on her soul.

Poor, sweet, dear, foolish Mousse... with the beautiful, pleading, compassionate eyes...

She wanted Ranma, yes. She wanted to be a great Amazon warrior, the greatest, a woman who had overcome all obstacles between her and her lawful husband, no matter what the cost...

But she also wanted to be... happy...

Yes. Happy. Had she ever been truly happy before? She'd always gotten a thrill out of chasing Ranma, out of competing with her rivals, out of being strong and fierce and beautiful and desirable... but the exhilaration had always faded, leaving her feeling... hollow.

But she was used to the hollowness. She had accepted it as a part of her, so much so that for the longest time, she didn't recognize the emptiness for what it was.

Even now, she wouldn't have recognized the hollowness for what it was... if it hadn't been filled the past week.

Shampoo blinked as her eyes filled with unexpected wetness.

The past week, with Mousse by her side. The hollowness was gone, she realized with surprise, when he was with her. She felt warm, and safe and...

...and happy?

It... wasn't possible. Could it be that stupid, weak, blind, foolish Mousse... made her happy?

Shampoo's wet eyes widened with realization, and she felt her skin begin tingle with a strange, enveloping warmth that went on to penetrate far deeper into her soul than anything else she had ever experienced.

Mousse had dropped his gaze, unwilling, unable to see the betrayal he felt sure was coming.

"Great-grandmother." Shampoo spoke without tearing her gaze away from Mousse. Her voice was quiet, but strong. "I sorry I cast the blood spell. I... will not marry Ranma. _Mousse_ is my husband. And..." She reached out, a tremulous smile lighting her face, and gently took his hand. He blinked, looking at their entwined hands in confusion.

"And I love him."

Silence. It seemed as if everyone had stopped breathing. Shampoo could almost hear their eyes widening, even as her own heart pounded in her chest.

Mousse's hand trembled in hers. Slowly, incredulously, he raised his head. He saw Shampoo, saw her wet, shimmering violet eyes, and the genuine, hopeful smile on her face that was for him...

For him.

Ranma's image no longer haunted the depths of her eyes.

Words could not describe the joy that Mousse felt in that moment. His heart, which only moments before had been so heavy, flared with brilliant light that filled his body, his mind.

He opened his mouth, but was too overwhelmed to speak. His throat had closed off, even as tears filled his eyes.

Shampoo's smile grew, and the tears slipped down her own cheeks. She brought Mousse's hand up to her chest, caressing his fingers with both her hands, feeling the warmth, the _strength_ in him that she had never noticed before. "Wo ai ni, Mousse," she whispered to him, and his hand tightened around hers.

It was strange, she realized, how easy it was... how much more natural and glorious were those words now, at this moment, than all the times she had flung them so carelessly at Ranma.

"Shampoo..." Mousse's blue-gray eyes glistened behind his glasses, and he reached up with his free hand to touch her face, to wipe the tears from her face with his fingers...

"No." Cologne's voice was hard as stone. "I... will _not_ allow this... travesty..."

Shampoo turned...

...and paled at the raw fury she saw in her great-grandmother's face as their eyes locked. In her whole life, she had never seen Cologne so angry.

Still, she stood her ground, releasing Mousse's hands as she turned, instinctively slipping into a battle stance, her own gaze hardening with determination.

"Great-grandmother. I make my decision. Is final."

Cologne's entire countenance darkened. "I think not," she said quietly.

Shampoo tensed. In a one-on-one fight, she knew she didn't stand a chance against the elder Amazon. But she wasn't alone, for the others were standing with her. She could feel Mousse beside her, and behind her, Ryoga and Ukyo stood, both tensed and ready to fight. All together, they just might be able to win this battle...

The sight of Cologne's cold fury as she stood a mere meter or so away forcibly shook Mousse out of his euphoria. Immediately, the weapons in the dimensionally deceiving confines of his sleeves slid down towards his hands as he looked at the old crone. Four against one; five if the idiot Kuno decided to catch a clue and realize the seriousness of the situation. They could win...

"*Shampoo.*" Cologne spoke in Mandarin. Her words were soft and sudden as she gazed unwaveringly at her great-granddaughter who stood so defiantly before her. "*You are young and easily misled. You fail to realize the seriousness of the choice you have made. This is my fault. I should have taught you better. And so I forgive you of your folly.*"

Shampoo blinked in surprise at her great-grandmother's words. They were not at all what she expected. If anything, she had been prepared for a scathing reprimand, a denouncement, even disownment and banishment for her open defiance. But this? Forgiveness? What was she--?

There was a flash of movement; a mere flick of Cologne's wrist as her hand flashed out from under her robe, and Shampoo and Mousse felt the splash of icy water against their faces.

No! Shampoo tried to shout, but it was too late as the curse took her body and her voice from her. Her wet clothes collapsed on top of her, and she meowed loudly as she desperately clawed her way out of the material. She could hear Mousse squawking and fluttering in anger, and she cried out wordlessly, a terrible yowling sound, not for herself, but for Mousse. A warning. Get away, get away quickly, before--!

Too late, for as she scrambled out of her clothing, she heard the squawks cease, and as she emerged, she saw that Cologne held Mousse by his fragile, slender neck. He held perfectly still, knowing that death could be a mere clench of the fist away. His eyes were wide behind the glasses that somehow still remained on his face, hanging lopsided across his duck bill.

Shampoo froze, fighting the instinct to shake her wet fur. Her tiny heart pounded painfully within her rib cage. _Great-grandmother wouldn't kill Mousse_, she thought wildly. _She wouldn't, she wouldn't, it's just a bluff, she's just taking control of the situation, that's all, she's just showing us that we can't fight her..._

Ukyo stood, trembling in impotent fury. She and Ryoga couldn't attack with her holding Mousse like that! That old _ghoul!_

But Ryoga wasn't looking at the duck, though he was painfully aware of the danger Mousse was in. Instead, he was staring nervously at what Cologne held in her other hand: a long, thin, makeshift container made from a hollowed stalk of bamboo, the diameter of his fist, that had been carefully hidden in the folds of her robes until a moment ago. And within the bamboo container, water, melting from shards of shattered ice, sloshed menacingly.

A part of Ryoga that wasn't furious and fearful of getting changed into a helpless piglet, marveled that the old woman had the skill to carry the container up the mountain without spilling a drop... and that she'd managed to splash Shampoo and Mousse, and yet still save just enough water for him...

Cologne glanced over at him with a smirk, as if daring him to come closer.

Shampoo saw Cologne's smug glance at Ryoga, and didn't hesitate. She leaped from her crumpled pile of clothing, and with feline swiftness, sank her tiny, needle-sharp claws into the hand that held the bucket. Cologne jerked and hissed in pain, but held on to both Mousse and the bucket of icy water. "_Let go of me, you stupid child!_" she snapped.

Shampoo sank her sharp teeth into the withered flesh of Cologne's hand, and the thin, coppery taste of ancient blood filled her mouth.

Grimacing in pain, Cologne purposefully threw Mousse to the ground. He landed hard with a strangled squawk, then lay stunned and unmoving. Then she tore Shampoo from her arm with her free hand and held her by the scuff of the neck in front of her face. "Enough of this," she hissed. "We will discuss this later, Shampoo."

With that, she tapped the struggling lavender cat on the head with one finger, and Shampoo felt her consciousness slip away.

As Ukyo saw Cologne drop the limp cat to the ground, she knew this would be her only chance to attack, while the old woman was distracted. "Now, Ryoga," she whispered, and charged.

Cologne turned to meet her attack calmly, dodging the slashing swipe of her battle spatula. Ukyo saw her hand flash out and tried to twist out of the way, but couldn't fully dodge as her momentum carried her forward. She felt Cologne's finger like a spear in her chest, and she flew backward, striking the invisible barrier with tremendous force. Lights flashed behind her eyes, darkness surged at the edges of her vision... and with her fading sight, she saw that Ryoga was standing where she left him, and that he was looking at her slumping form with horror.

"Ryoga," she wheezed painfully, "you idiot... Why didn't you back me up..?"

But if he replied, she didn't hear him, for the darkness swelling at the edges of her vision chose that moment to smother her dimming spark of consciousness.

Cologne turned to Ryoga and smiled. "Do you want to go next, boy? Or are you too frightened of a little water?"

As Ryoga looked at Ukyo's crumpled, unconscious body, her accusing words ringing in his head... his fear dissolved into raw fury. Fury over everything this old woman had done. Fury over the blood spell, and everything that had happened because of it. Fury over how she had threatened his friends, how she had hurt them.

Fury at how she was now able to hold him at bay, and keep him from helping his friends, with a mere bucket of liquid.

He crouched as his battle aura blazed a furious blue-green. "You..!" he snarled, his ki crackling around his body as it grew in strength. "How _dare_ you?!" Throwing his hands up, palms outward, he shouted, "_Shishi Houkodan!_"

With incredible swiftness, Cologne nimbly leaped out of the way of the blast, up and over... and flung the last of the icy water down onto Ryoga.

The tiny black piglet that emerged from the crumpled, sopping remnants of Ryoga's clothes was even more furious than the boy had been. With a squeal of rage, it attacked Cologne, its sharp fangs bared furiously.

The Amazon caught the piglet in one hand, and, with a mighty thrust, bashed it against the stony ground.

The piglet lay, its eyes half-closed and unseeing, and didn't move. Didn't even twitch.

Cologne straightened with satisfaction. Now that those obstacles were out of the way--

There was a sound, loud and sharp, like a short thunderclap, and Cologne felt razor hot fire explode through her right shoulder, flinging her backwards to land hard on the ground.

Pain filled her head with a red haze. She could feel the torn, splattered flesh surrounding the gaping hole in her shoulder, could feel the shards of her shattered collar bone biting into the muscle tissue, could feel the blood already soaking her robes.

But none of that stopped her from getting immediately to her feet, looking around to see...

"Don't move, or next time it's your heart." Nabiki's expression was as hard as stone as she cocked back the hammer of her magnum with a solid _click_.

Kuno stood a few feet away from her, unresponding, staring blankly at the unconscious animals lying on the ground where, only moments before, his human companions had stood.

Cologne focused over the pain -- not a hard thing to do, since her shoulder and arm were already growing numb from systemic shock -- and glared hard at the girl that, to her chagrin, she had underestimated once again. How could she have known that this girl, with absolutely no skill in the Art, would be a threat? "You think you can shoot me before I can reach you to break your neck, girl?" she asked quietly.

"I think you're fast," Nabiki replied, unblinking. A grim, half-smile quirked the edge of her mouth. "But you're wounded. And whether it's with a gun or a camera, I'm a _very_ fast shot."

Cologne pulled herself straighter, in spite of the bleeding hole in her shoulder. Her battle aura flared a brilliant scarlet around her diminutive form.

And she grinned.

--------------------

End of Part Eighteen


	20. Of Magic, Gods and Demons

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the sole creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 19: Of Magic, Gods and Demons

by Krista Perry

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Nabiki stared at Cologne's fallen form, then glanced at the gun, unable to believe that she had pulled the trigger. Milliseconds ticked by with infinite slowness as the echo of the shot reverberated throughout the valley, shattering the stillness that shrouded the base of the mountain of the Ancient One.

A cool wind abruptly stirred through the heavy, stagnant atmosphere, soft and strangely clammy across the skin of her outstretched arms.

*Fool,* the wind whispered.

Nabiki heard the voice of the wind, ghostly and unnerving, even with her unprotected ears singing in pain from the startling, piercing sound of the gunshot, and hoped she wasn't losing her mind.

She couldn't feel her face. Her eyes stared at Cologne's body through an expressionless mask; a mask covering the inner turmoil boiling inside her chest, the nausea trembling within her stomach.

_No, I'm not a fool, I'm the _smart_ one, dammit, the others came unarmed, relying on their martial arts, but I brought a gun, and _I'm_ the one standing--_

Cologne twitched, and began to move.

Nabiki blinked in surprise, _She's alive I didn't kill her_, and shifted the grip on her gun, the wind and its mocking voice forgotten as her mind suddenly raced in counterpoint to the dragging moments of time.

_You just had to come with Ranma on this fool's errand, didn't you? Thought you had to help the prince and his little legion rescue the damsel-in-distress, didn't you? Gee, I wonder why you never hear about court treasurers going on adventures. Perhaps because they're usually smart enough to stay behind and count the gold? _

_Oh jeeze, I'm rambling, I can't lose it, not now of all times..._

She didn't realize that there would be so much blood. That a simple twitch of her finger on the curved trigger of her gun would cause the old woman's flesh and bone to explode so violently in a shower of scarlet.

The paper practice targets at retired-Colonel Hiwamura's private indoor shooting range never bled, after all. She'd have to mention that little discrepancy to Hiwamura-san the next time she saw him.

She had always been a girl who liked to bet on a sure thing. If it wasn't a sure thing, and the odds could be bent in her favor, she never hesitated to bend them.

The cold metal weight that she held easily in her hands had just bent the odds in her favor at a time when she saw the world tumbling out of her control before her eyes. Mousse, Shampoo, Ukyo, Ryoga... all fallen in moments...

Nabiki Tendo was in control once again. She had used the gun, and had brought a little order to the chaos of this crazy place where invisible barriers rose from the ground, and where a strange new wind spoke terrors to her soul with a near-silent voice.

She just wished she could wipe her damn sweaty palms on the legs of her jeans.

_Lucky shot. Beginner's luck, stupid beginner's luck, a slight jerk, a misalignment, and it would be her face or her chest that would be gone instead of her shoulder... _

_She's still alive, thank the gods, I didn't kill her... _

_Oh no, she's still alive. She's moving, she's going to get up, what do I do now, I don't think I can shoot this thing again, I don't think I..._

Cologne was getting impossibly to her feet. And, as if from a great distance, as if she were under water, Nabiki heard her own voice, cold and calm and as smooth as silk.

"Don't move, or next time it's your heart." Her off-hand thumb instinctively cocked back the hammer of the gun.

_Next time, yeah right, there's no way I can pull the trigger again, oh crap, she looks angry, I can't believe she's still moving with that... that... Oh no, I'm in trouble, what about the others, I can't believe it, she took them all out in seconds, and Ryoga is P-chan, Ryoga is _P-chan_ I can't believe I didn't see it before, that idiot, he should have told us, no wonder he didn't help Ukyo, I hope he's alive... _

_We're all in big trouble..._

Cologne was once again on her feet in spite of the gaping, bleeding wound in her shoulder. Her battle aura, the color of the sprayed droplets on the ground, began to flicker around her diminutive form, and she was even speaking...

"You think you can shoot me before I can reach you to break your neck, girl?"

Nabiki felt her skin go cold as glass.

_She's going to kill me. She wants to kill me, I can see it in her eyes, I should have shot her the moment she showed up, but no, I had to deal with Kuno and keep him quiet so he wouldn't attract attention to me, to us, I had to get the gun, I had to... wait... Yes, I had to wait because... because who knows, Shampoo might have been able to talk some sense into the old ghoul, and we might have continued and finished this whole mess without incident... _

_Yeah, right. Face it, girl, you blew it._

The wind was laughing at her.

Nabiki felt her careful poker face begin to slip under a building surge of terror.

_No! Control. Get under control. Ignore the damn wind, it's just another part of this crazy place, it can't hurt you, but Cologne can. Forget what's happened, just go from here, or you'll end up just another body littering the ground. You brought this gun for a reason, remember?_

Yes. She brought the gun, in spite of the fact that marksmanship was just an exotically foreign hobby that she had taken up (a bit subversively, due to certain... legalities) a few months ago, because it was a form of self defense that didn't involve getting beat to a pulp during training. She brought the gun in spite of the fact that, until the past week, she had never _really_ thought about turning a gun on another living creature.

But she didn't want to be a liability to the expedition. She wanted a way to defend herself so that her martial artist friends wouldn't have to worry about protecting her all the time, wouldn't have to worry about saving poor, defenseless Nabiki, who didn't know how to fight and had never _physically_ hurt anyone in her entire life.

Violence really wasn't her cup of tea, after all...

And, through the ringing in her ears, Nabiki heard her own voice again, so distant and calm that she had to wonder if the sound could possibly be coming from her own throat.

"I think you're fast." Nabiki felt her cold, numb face quirking into a well-practiced sneer. "But you're wounded. And whether it's with a gun or a camera, I'm a _very_ fast shot."

She didn't know where the words were coming from. _I've been watching too many B-movies. Oh jeeze, she's smiling. I can't believe she's smiling with that hole in her shoulder. Look at all that blood! I must have hit an artery, I can't believe she's still _standing_. How is that possible?!_

But then, she knew how it was possible.

She knew because for the past hour, she had breathed the air surrounding the mountain of the Ancient One; air thick with magic. And now, the voice of that damnable unearthly wind that had come out of nowhere, whispering, soft and clammy... She could feel the undeniable force of it inside her as it seeped into the core of her fierce self-confidence, shaking her faith in the laws of logic and reality, filling her head with possibilities.

Possibilities. Terrible possibilities of things she would never have imagined, if only she were still surrounded by the sane civilization of the Tokyo suburbs.

Sure, at home she'd been around the constant strangeness of the Jusenkyo-cursed victims. But she'd almost gotten used to their water-induced shape-shifting, so that it was almost a commonplace part of everyday life, no longer mysterious or frightening.

Now, though, as she stood in the very land where the Jusenkyo curses originated, as she saw a helpless cat, duck and piglet lying unconscious where her friends once stood, she realized anew just how terrible, how _unnatural_ the curse magic was.

Possibilities. Anything was possible, it seemed, in this Chinese wilderness where dragons and demons dwelled, where a splash of cursed water could transform your body into something strange and alien, where invisible barriers granted or denied access to mist-shrouded mountains on a whim, where the feeling of enchantment lay heavy as a shroud on the landscape...

And where an old crone was standing as if she didn't have a terrible, bloody bullet hole in her shoulder, her scarlet ki lighting the gloom in lengthening tendrils of power.

Nabiki knew she was out of her element. The smoking gun in her hands felt alien, out of place. She could almost sense the whispering wind's disapproval for bringing such a terrible technology into its midst. She felt the strange breeze brush against her face and ruffle her hair with moist intangible fingers that smelled of death.

And Cologne's battle aura was building. Even from nearly ten meters, Nabiki could feel the intensity of Cologne's ki prickle against her skin.

_Ki attack. She taught Ranma the Hyruu Shouten Ha, and helped him create the Mouko Takabishya. Of course she can do ki attacks. _

_She's going to fry me. _

_Just shoot her! _a part of her screamed._ Forget magic, forget ki! Stop her before she kills you! It isn't murder, it's self-defense! This is what you came prepared for, remember?_

Nabiki swallowed. Her finger tightened on the trigger.

And Cologne's withered, blood splattered smile widened into a chilling grin. The crone raised her uninjured arm, a blindingly bright bead of scarlet ki focused tightly in the palm of her hand.

Nabiki's heart was a trapped bird, beating wildly against her rib cage. _Now or never. Now or never, now or never now or never now or--_

She didn't hear the shot. Only the hard recoil shuddering through her arms and shoulders told her that she had fired.

Cologne didn't even flinch.

Nabiki blinked. Her heart seemed to freeze, seemed to sink into her stomach.

_I missed?_

A deep, terrible calm settled through her. And suddenly she was pulling the trigger, once, twice, a third time, feeling the recoil jerking through her body...

...but there was no sound. No cracking shot. Not even the acrid smell of powder.

_What the--?_

Nabiki looked at the gun. With a practiced flip of her wrist and a twist of her fingers, she snapped the cylinder of the gun out of alignment.

All six chambers were empty.

_No way. No _way_, dammit. I _know_ I loaded this thing..._

*Fool,* the quivering, clammy magic wind whispered. Its laughter filled her head.

And, as Cologne hoarsely shouted something in Mandarin, there was a tremendous flash of light, and Nabiki knew it was too late, she'd blown it, she was done for, a goner, for the scarlet ki was roaring towards her and she couldn't seem to move, except she could once again feel her face, and she knew that her mask had shattered and that her terror was shining clearly from her features for all to see as she felt death coming--

Something grabbed her from the side, around her waist. She was yanked hard off her feet, but not quickly enough, because the edge of the attack still caught her in the face, blasting her senses like a hot wind, stealing the air from her lungs, sending a black wave through her brain, washing away consciousness...

She resurfaced from the wave briefly, groaning, realizing in amazement that she wasn't dead even as she felt her limp body turned carefully in someone's arms. Through the black motes swallowing up her vision, she caught a glimpse of her rescuer.

_K... Kuno?_

He had saved her, she realized incredulously. _What do you know, he's actually useful for something other than money._

But, as the darkness swallowed her again, she didn't have time to hope that he would be smart enough to run.

--------------------

Kuno's mind was whirling as he glanced down at Nabiki, cradled in his arms. Looking up, he saw the old woman glaring at him furiously, impervious to her horrible wound. Once again, her ki began to focus into a bright speck of power in the palm of her hand.

"That was a mistake, boy," she rasped.

Kuno blinked. The world had turned upside down. Nothing that had happened since he regained consciousness at the foot of this strange mountain made any sense.

He needed to think. His mind swam with images of small animals and his fiery pig-tailed goddess... He needed to make sense of the things he had seen and felt that had shattered the adamantine wall of his personal perception.

But there was no time to think, because this old woman, who had defeated his companions in mere moments, was getting ready to attack him.

Honor demanded that he stay and fight to the end, of course. And yet, he realized with sudden clarity, there was more at stake here than his honor.

The lives of his companions, for instance. The life of the girl he held in his arms.

His very sanity, perhaps.

He lifted his eyes to meet those of the old crone, pushing back the overwhelming confusion in his mind, trying to ignore the fierceness of the old woman's gaze and the power of her aura.

"I would challenge you," he intoned gravely, falling back on to his old, virtually unconscious aphorism. _When in doubt, act as if you're in control._ "But at this moment I believe... discretion... is the better part of valor."

Cologne didn't respond. She merely stood, trembling with fury, her aura blazing.

So, without another word, Kuno shifted Nabiki's limp form in his arms and made haste for the thick of the forest. Bokken in hand, he swiftly slashed his way through the heavy undergrowth, not looking back to see if the old woman was following.

_Saotome Secret Technique_, he found himself thinking with something akin to self-loathing. _Oh, that I have sunk so low..._

But, as the image of his flame-haired goddess filled his mind, only to flicker with the image of the hated Saotome, he found that he wasn't quite sure what the true source of his self-loathing was...

--------------------

Cologne watched Kuno leave.

When he was gone, her aura died abruptly. She sagged weakly to her knees, and thanked whatever gods that were listening that the boy had fallen for her bluff.

The familiar, musty wind brushed her skin, laughing.

"Yes, he fell for it. But do you think it will do you any good, even though he is gone?"

Cologne froze at the sound of the voice.

And as she looked up, her skin, already gray from shock and loss of blood, turned even more pale.

"Yin Wu Ch'ang Kuei," she breathed.

The Ghost of Impermanence was taller than Cologne remembered. Then again, it had been over half a century since their last encounter, and Cologne wasn't as tall as she used to be.

The Ghost's face was the same, though. Cold and dead, the woman might once have been beautiful. Her skin was both the color and texture of old rice paper, and her face, framed by tangled, matted locks of heavy black hair, was spider-webbed with a thin network of splotchy, broken blood veins bulging just under the surface of the skin. Milky, sightless eyes gazed at the ancient Amazon with unnerving accuracy. The Ghost smiled, revealing a mouth black with mold.

"It has been a long time, old one," she said in a thick, gurgling voice, as if her lungs were half full of murky water. "Yet once again, your encroaching death summons me to collect your soul. I am curious to see, will you escape my grasp this time?"

Cologne's eyes narrowed, even as she trembled against the dead numbness seeping from her shattered shoulder, spreading throughout her body. "I am not quite ready to die just yet," she murmured.

Yin Wu Ch'ang laughed, a strange, delighted burbling sound. "Yes. You say that every time. But you just expended a great deal of ki in your attack against that girl. And that is quite an impressive hole she made in your body, I must say. She wanted to make more holes, but I stopped her." The ghost's black smile widened. "After all... what kind of a challenge would that be?"

Cologne gazed at her in stunned silence.

"How ever do you intend to patch it up?" the dead woman whispered intently. "With leaves and sticks and mud?" She glided forward, her blank, wet eyes rolling eagerly, and extended a skeletal hand, the pale skin stretched tight over the bones. "Whatever you are going to do, do it quickly, for you are dying, old one. I can feel the pull of your soul. It longs for me to come and help it shed your crumbling mortal carcass."

Since the first time Cologne had encountered this Chinese emissary of Death, she had never quite understood the... delight... the Ghost took in seeing her struggle to escape.

Perhaps it was because Yin Wu Ch'ang escorted only the souls of the elderly to the afterlife, whereas her male counterpart, Yang Wu Ch'ang, with the swollen, lolling tongue and the bloated, purple face, dealt with the souls of the young. And while the elderly passed on with perhaps a sigh or a wheeze, the young ones usually had a spark of fight to them.

Well, if Yin Wu Ch'ang wanted a fight, she'd get one. Cologne hadn't lived three centuries without knowing how to cheat all kinds of death, after all. She may have been caught off guard this time, but she was never fully unprepared.

She'd have to work fast, though. Yin Wu Ch'ang was gliding closer, her thin, skeletal arms outstretched, reaching out to harvest her soul...

Trembling violently as shock, pain and numbness seeped through her frail, wounded body, Cologne reached deep into the secret folds of her robes with her undamaged arm and pulled out a small leather pouch, holding it carefully in her withered, blood-stained hand.

Yin Wu Ch'ang smiled slightly as she saw the pouch. "Of course. The Shards of the Apple. You've used this before, have you not?"

Cologne would have shrugged if it was possible. As it was, she was fighting the darkness flickering at the edges of her vision with all her concentration.

The Shards were, of course, immeasurably old, remarkably preserved pieces of fruit from the very first apple tree in the world. Legend had it that the tree grew far to the north-east of Qinghai province, in the Heilongjiang region, in ancient times. Known to have fantastic healing properties, the fruit from that tree cured the worst diseases and injuries, from blindness, to strange and deadly wasting illnesses, to lost limbs...

Yin Wu Ch'ang was getting closer. "You might not make it, even so," she whispered. Cologne could smell the dead woman's rotten, musty breath, could feel it, soft and clammy on her skin. "The Shards are old, and have lost most of their potency."

True, Cologne knew. But at this point, she didn't care. It was her only chance.

"Ah." Yin Wu Ch'ang's milky eyes widened, and her black, oozing mouth hung open with slack pleasure. "You are dying quickly. Can you feel it? Can you feel your heartbeat slowing under the entwining tendrils of death?"

Cologne could feel it. And, more than anything, she wanted to tell the Ghost to shut up.

Instead, with what seemed like the supreme effort of strength, she spread the puckered opening of the leather pouch with two fingers.

There were only two Shards left. Two from the original twelve that she had acquired as a young woman as spoils from a long, bloody battle against an attempted invasion of the village. Of course, if she could ever recover the Shards that the wretched lecher Happosai had stolen from her, she would have at least four more...

Reaching inside with shaking fingers, she plucked out a papery-thin, shriveled brown object. Slowly, carefully, she lifted it to her lips, and placed it on her tongue.

She closed her eyes, and felt the ancient shred of apple dissolve in her mouth.

Nothing.

The gaping, dark bloody hole in her shoulder continued to drain her life away...

"Yesssss..." She heard Yin Wu Ch'ang's dark, gurgling voice right next to her ear, felt the cold, dead fingers caressing the skin of her face...

_Please,_ Cologne thought. _Please... I don't want to die. Not now, not when I'm so close. It's almost over, I'm almost finished. And then Shampoo can return to the village, and, having fulfilled her debt of honor, with her rightful husband by her side, my great-grandchild will finally have her deserved place of honor on the council, she will be strong and happy, and the tribe will be strong and happy _with_ her, _because_ of her, she will be a living monument to both our noble ancestors and her posterity... _

_...and _then_ I can die in peace..._

A flash of fire shot through the nerves of Cologne's limbs, so sharp and painful that her breath caught in her throat, and her eyes flew open wide.

Yin Wu Ch'ang gasped, her skeletal hand jerking from Cologne's face as if she'd touched a live wire.

Cologne's numb, dead shoulder began to tingle with the barest flicker of life.

It was all she needed.

Summoning the last inner reserves of her ki, she focused her sight inward, until she was aware of the weak throbbing of her heart, of the blood threading through her veins, focusing smaller and smaller until it seemed she was aware of each particle of her being.

She focused on aiding the healing spark, leading it on its microscopic journey through the cells of her destroyed shoulder.

Gradually, with her inner guidance, the spark worked its healing power within her. Bleeding slowed as the ends of the severed artery joined and fused. Veins and capillaries closed, and shredded flesh pulled together. Shards of collar bone shifted within the torn muscle, moving so painfully into place that Cologne had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out.

But the magic was old, and had indeed lost much of its potency. Cologne found the healing spark dimming, slipping from her mental grasp...

The supernatural movement within her wound slowed, then ceased.

There was severe pain. But pain was good. It told her that she was alive. She could feel that the bone shards in her shoulder were loose and unknit; that the wound, no longer a gaping hole, but a mere puckered puncture, still trickled blood.

Her heartbeat was again steady and strong. Her ki was restored. And with her ki, she could endure the remainder of the injury.

She heard Yin Wu Ch'ang sigh. And, she was surprised to realize, the sigh was almost a sound of... contentment?

"Well played, old one." Cologne could feel the Ghost's face mere centimeters from her own, could smell her dank, rotting breath as she spoke softly. "Another time, perhaps?"

Cologne opened her eyes slowly and met the Ghost's sightless gaze. "Perhaps," she replied.

Without another word, the Ghost faded away in the cloud-filtered sunlight.

Cologne knelt in silence for a long moment, unblinking.

Then, pushing herself to her feet, wincing in pain, she hobbled over to where a small lavender-furred cat lay on the stone ground, not far from an unconscious duck, piglet, and girl.

With great care, she lifted the limp cat, and cradled it gently with her good arm.

She checked on the others. Alive, all of them, though Ryoga would be unconscious for a while, considering the blow she gave him. Ukyo lay face first on the ground. There was a bleeding gash on the back of her head, where she had impacted with the barrier, but her breathing was steady and strong. Mousse would probably recover first, since he was the least stunned, but he wouldn't be any trouble.

Deep within the folds of her robe, she could feel the small vial of carefully-prepared liquid that would subjugate Ranma to her forever, and restore her great-granddaughter's honor.

And as the musky whispering wind touched her skin one last time, Cologne realized her face was wet with tears. Tears of pain, fear, or relief, she couldn't say.

She had never felt so old.

--------------------

Nabiki's eyes snapped open. Her heart pounded in her throat, her hands clenched, and she felt grass and moss tear away from the ground in her white-knuckled grip. She stared wildly at the tangled mass of tree branches, budding with spring growth, that mottled the gray sky before her.

She gazed at the sky, unable to breathe, feeling the weight of her body pressed against the ground. She listened. The wind blowing across her skin was almost warm, and smelled of fresh leaves and earth. And, as she strained to hear with lingering dread, she realized that the wind's only voice was nothing more than the usual wordless whisper through the dense foliage that surrounded her.

Not only that, but she could hear bird song, and the trilling chirp of insects throughout the forest. Wherever she was, she was in a place where nature seemed to be behaving in a normal manner.

Slowly, carefully, she exhaled. Blades of uprooted grass fell from her limp fingers.

_I'm alive_, she thought. _Well, how about that._

"So. You're awake at last."

Nabiki sat up quickly -- and immediately regretted it as a swelling ache reverberated through her skull. Groaning, she pressed the palms of her hands against her throbbing temples.

Kuno favored her with an imperious half-lidded glare. He sat cross-legged a meter or so away from her on a patch of thick grass, his bokken resting across his up-turned palms, almost in an attitude of meditation.

She glanced away, hoping that the surprise she felt didn't register on her face. "So," she replied, massaging her head with her fingertips. "You _did_ run away."

Kuno's supercilious expression twitched, and, for a moment, his hands clenched around his bokken. "What would you have had me do?" he asked coldly. "Stay, that we might both be killed?"

"Not at all," she said, dropping her hands into her lap, noticing with mild dismay that they were shaking. "I'm just surprised you had the guts to do it."

"'Guts?'" Kuno's lip curled in sudden disgust, and he dropped his gaze. "There is no courage, no honor in fleeing a battle just to save one's own life."

Nabiki sighed heavily. "Yeah, whatever." She could feel her body's desire to just collapse back onto the ground and tremble in post-traumatic reaction. She wanted to wrap her arms around her chest and let the fear pour out of her in sobs and screams, let it seep out of her skin and back into the atmosphere, until she once again felt like herself.

But no. She'd come this far, and she'd be damned if she'd lose control now and let her body overrule her mind. Especially in front of Kuno.

She turned to look him in the face, her expression carefully neutral. "And you didn't just save your own life," she said. "We're both perfectly aware that I would probably be splattered across the landscape if you hadn't grabbed me and run. Amazing though it is, you actually did something smart. So let's cut the 'soiled honor' crap, and figure out what we're going to do now."

Kuno blinked, his condescending expression slipping slightly. He opened his mouth to respond, but then he stopped and stared at her a long moment, as if unsure whether or not to be angry. "You have an unusual way of expressing gratitude, Nabiki Tendo," he said at last.

She glanced at him sharply.

"Thank you," she said, "for saving my life."

"You're welcome."

They stared at each other, like two unyielding statues.

"Well, now that that's over with, let's get going." Nabiki pushed herself to her feet with determination, gritting her teeth against a wave of dizziness.

Kuno looked up at her from his sitting position. "Really. And what, exactly, is your intended destination?"

Nabiki blinked at him. _I'm going back to the mountain_, she wanted to say. _I'm going back to save the others from Cologne._

The thought was so ludicrous even as it came into her mind, that her composed expression almost slipped into a scowl. Go back? And do what? Give the old ghoul a chance to finish her off?

Infuriatingly enough, she saw from the look on Kuno's face that this had already occurred to him.

The very idea of going back at this point was ridiculous. No doubt Cologne would be able to sense her approach long before she could be in a position to do anything. Not that she could actually _do_ anything anyway. Her plans, her calculating logic, even her ace-in-the-hole... All had been rendered completely useless by the chaotic element of... magic.

That damned wind...

Her stomach slowly clenched, sending bile into her throat. She, Nabiki Tendo, the _smart_ one, was completely, utterly helpless, unable to do anything to save her friends.

And on top of that, Kuno's somber, uncharacteristically rational calm was really getting on her nerves. How dare he be so composed at a time like this? He should be rending the air with passionate poetry at this point, bewailing their misfortune and the unknown fate of his Pig-tailed goddess. Not sitting there like some damned meditating monk.

"How long have I been unconscious?" she asked.

If Kuno noticed, or even cared about her changing the subject, he gave no sign. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders in a casual gesture that was deeply unsettling in its lack of pomposity, though his face still held a look of cool arrogance. "I haven't been keeping track of the time," he said. "An hour. Maybe longer."

Nabiki bristled. She hadn't realized so much time had passed. "And what have you been doing all this time?" she demanded.

"Thinking."

She stifled the urge to snort derisively.

"And it seems to me," Kuno continued, his voice carefully level, "that we can do nothing except wait for Ranma to return from the mountain."

Nabiki looked at him, and raised a contemptuous eyebrow. "I don't believe it," she said. "The mighty 'Blue Thunder of Furinkan High' is just going to sit here and wait for his 'Pig-tailed Girl' to come back and save him?"

Kuno's jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened with such intensity that Nabiki was momentarily startled. Then, to her further amazement, Kuno lowered his gaze. Slowly, he took a deep, shaky breath.

"I would think that you would agree with me, Nabiki Tendo," he said softly. "After all, with... his... exceptional skill and determination... Ranma may be our only hope to defeat the old woman."

Silence. Nabiki stared at Kuno, too stunned to even blink. After a long moment, he slowly lifted his gaze and regarded her with a hostile defiance that practically dared her to mock him in the face of his quiet admission.

_Incredible_, she thought, as she abruptly comprehended Kuno's strange behavior. _I don't believe it. He's finally figured it out._

Nabiki exhaled her breath in a whoosh. Her amazement was clear and she made no attempt to hide it. She hadn't missed Kuno's amazingly straightforward compliment of Ranma's martial arts skill, either.

"So," she said carefully, "you've finally accepted Ranma's curse, eh?"

His eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched. "The evidence," he said, "that presented itself at the mountain was... most convincing."

"You mean, with the others? Shampoo and Mousse?" _And Ryoga_, she thought suddenly. _That's right, he's cursed too. He's P-chan._

She pushed the disturbing thought, with all its implications, aside, and focused her gaze on Kuno. "Come on. You've seen them change before. Hell, _Ranma's_ changed right in front of you, and you never figured it out."

A shadow crossed Kuno's face, and his mouth pinched in a severe frown. His eyes were steel as he gazed at her, and again, Nabiki was startled at his intensity.

Startled, yes. But damned if she'd show it. Damned if she'd give the arrogant, idiotic bastard the satisfaction of seeing her shaken by his strange behavior.

"So, Nabiki Tendo," he said slowly, deliberately. His knuckles were white around the wooden bokken. "Are you suggesting that I was the only one who had a few self-delusions shattered at the base of that mountain?"

Nabiki's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" she asked. Just what _had_ he been thinking about while she was unconscious?

But, as she saw his face, she knew exactly what he meant. And she couldn't tell if she was more amazed that thick-skulled, air-headed Kuno had asked the question... or that he'd had the clarity of sight to see into her hidden heart.

She realized that her palms were sweating again.

The bastard. How dare he turn her question around on her?

"For one thing," he replied, "it seems rather foolish to me that you would go through all the trouble of bypassing our native firearms laws to acquire a gun, and even smuggle the distasteful weapon through Chinese customs... only to load it with a single bullet to face a powerful enemy."

Nabiki's throat was dry; all the moisture had evaporated from her mouth. "The gun," she said hoarsely, "was loaded. All six chambers."

"Indeed," Kuno replied coldly. "Then how do you account for what happened when you attempted to fire the gun a second time?"

Nabiki blinked. She couldn't account for it, of course. Though, insanely, her gut, her inner instinct told her to say, _It was the wind._

That strange, unearthly wind that smelled of her own mortality, that blew away the comforting veils of self-delusion...

She had thought she was untouchable; her logic infallible. With her fiercely calculating brain, she could plan for any and every contingency. A clear, rational mind would succeed over chaos every time.

Wrong. Self-delusion shattered.

Kuno was -- damn him -- right.

Nabiki stared at him, this creature who wore Kuno's face and spoke harsh logic instead of inane archaisms. _It's a changeling_, she thought. _A doppelganger. He's been abducted by aliens, and replaced with a pod person._

And she grimaced inwardly at her very line of thought. _By the gods_, she thought, gazing numbly at the young man sitting before her. _I'm turning into Kuno_.

She almost laughed at the realization, at the irony of it all. _Don't like reality? Then create one that's more comfortable. Kuno and I could go into business together. Creative Realities. Realities R Us. Kuno can happily lust after his Pig-tailed goddess forever, while I rule the world through perfectly calculated manipulations... _

She had a choice now.

She could go on, she knew, and pretend that nothing had happened. Pretend that the whole experience of the afternoon was nothing more than a momentary lapse, and that she hadn't been affected in the least by... shooting someone. Seeing her perceptions of reality shattered. Feeling death come rushing at her in a fiery, scarlet blast...

And now, the fear. The gnawing uncertainty, bordering on terror, of what was to come...

Inexplicably, she felt her eyes grow wet.

Why did reality have to be so damn painful? To admit that she could lose control. That she, Nabiki Tendo, the calm, collected, always-in-control ice queen, could be fragile, frightened, helpless... unable to think of a way out...

Unable to _think_...

_So, Nabiki. How do you account for what happened when you attempted to fire the gun a second time?_

Nabiki looked directly into Kuno's eyes. He was still waiting for her answer.

She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, and didn't care that Kuno saw.

"It... was the wind," she said softly.

And Kuno's hard, angry gaze softened. "Yes," he said. "I know."

After all the surprises, this didn't surprise her at all.

What did amaze her was the sudden relief she felt in her chest, the sudden lightness, as if a black burden had been dispelled.

This wasn't so bad, she realized. Being scared and uncertain. Showing weakness, fallibility...

"You heard it too?" she asked.

Kuno's frown mellowed, even turned up at one corner into a wry, bitter half-smile. "'Fool,'" he quoted. "But, to be honest, I thought it was speaking to me."

Nabiki laughed, sharp and humorless, and eased her shaking legs back into a sitting position on the grass. "Perhaps," she said, looking past Kuno to the forest beyond, "it was speaking to both of us."

"Perhaps."

Nabiki leaned forward, with her elbows on her knees, and rested her chin in one hand in a very weary gesture.

They sat together in uneasy silence.

"What of the others?" Kuno asked quietly.

Nabiki closed her eyes as if in pain. It was the very question that had been subversively eating at her insides from the moment she regained consciousness. Of course Kuno would have to ask; no doubt it had been haunting him as well.

She sighed. "Your guess is as good as mine, Kuno."

"No, it is not. You are more familiar with the others, as well as the old woman. Surely you can surmise whether or not she will harm our fallen companions."

Nabiki looked up, irritated. "Anything I _surmise_ won't do us a bit of good, because there's no way of knowing for sure if they're safe or not. So what's the point? Face it, Kuno, we're completely powerless, and if we try to guess what's going on, either with Cologne and the others, or even Ranma on the mountain, it's just going to drive us both crazy. So drop it, okay?"

Kuno blinked, surprised. Then his expression settled to one of indifference, tinged with annoyance. "Very well," he said coldly. "I merely asked because of the unusual talent you have so often displayed in the past for calculating the odds in numerous and diverse circumstances. I assumed this ability of yours stemmed from critical observation and an intimate knowledge of the parties involved. Apparently I was mistaken. I was unaware that your ability was based instead upon your ego, which indeed has suffered a serious blow this day."

Nabiki's teeth clenched, and she winced as she bit the inside of her cheek. _The manipulative bastard!_ she thought angrily. Yet this thought was immediately followed with a tinge of grudging respect. _Who knew he had it in him?_

Kuno was just full of surprises today.

"Fine. You want to know what I think?" Nabiki sat up and glared at him as she counted the points off on her fingers. "Here's the deal. First of all, Cologne won't harm Shampoo. Mousse is another matter, but because he's an Amazon, I suspect that if he tries to give Cologne any trouble, she'll merely subdue him, and then deal out whatever Amazon punishment applies. Which hopefully doesn't involve death or torture of any kind.

"As for Ryoga... Well, the old ghoul was pretty vicious when she smashed him into the ground, but I'm hoping that it's just because he's as sturdy and thick-skulled as a pig as he is as a human, and she knew it would take more to knock him unconscious. And besides, I've always had the impression that she was at least mildly fond of him, ever since she trained him a while back.

"Ukyo, on the other hand..." Nabiki paused as a ripple of apprehension shivered down her spine on behalf of her friend. Ukyo had been Shampoo's rival for Ranma's affection for a long time, which probably had not endeared her to the old crone. And if she regained consciousness, and tried to attack Cologne again...

Kuno frowned as Nabiki's expression clouded. "You believe she is in danger," he said.

Nabiki gave him a wry, worried look. "If she wakes up before Ranma returns, she'll be in the best position to give Cologne the most trouble. I just hope she's smart enough to run away as quickly as possible, rather than try to fight it out alone."

Inwardly, she winced. _Ukyo, back out of a fight when someone is threatening Ranma? Yeah, right. Ukyo, please stay unconscious._

A somber expression flitted across Kuno's face. "Then, truly, you are the only one that Cologne has the desire to kill."

Nabiki grimaced.

_Obstacles for killing._

Nabiki wondered if she should feel proud that she was the only one that Cologne actually considered an obstacle.

"Yeah, well," she said, as nonchalantly as she could manage. "Aside from the fact that I just blew a big hole in her shoulder, she's had a bone to pick with me for quite some time. I'm pretty sure I'm in the number one spot of her 'Least Favorite People' list."

Kuno blinked. "Indeed."

She looked at him sharply. "Now remember, I could be completely off in my calculations. Cologne just might be a raving lunatic out to kill everybody who gets in her way. For all I know, everybody is already dead. Including Ranma. And were stuck here in the middle of nowhere until we join them."

Kuno's mouth twitched into an almost-smile. "I believe that I prefer to trust in your calculations, Nabiki Tendo."

Nabiki sighed heavily as she wrapped her arms around her knees. "Whatever. As I said before, you can choose your own fantasy, Kuno. My theory may be a bit more pleasant than the alternative, but until we've got the solid facts... it's just a fantasy."

Kuno didn't respond, but merely raised an eyebrow at her.

They lapsed into silence once again. The air was warm. Nabiki noticed, with a deep melancholy that was settling over her, that the afternoon shadows were lengthening.

Though she couldn't deny that this new, enlightened Kuno was a vast improvement over the insipid idiot he'd been, she was still deeply... annoyed... that he had been a catalyst for her own epiphany. Sure, she could accept that she was imperfect. She could even grant that Kuno had more brains than she'd ever given him credit for.

But that didn't mean she had to like it.

As the thought crossed her mind, the corner of her mouth quirked as she realized how...deeply childish the sentiment was. How terribly petty and unimportant, in the face of what they had just experienced, as well as the trials that lay before them.

_Well, how about that_, she thought with wry amusement. _I'm _pouting.

After a long moment, she gave Kuno a sidelong glance. "Hey. About what you said earlier."

"What?"

"You know, about waiting for Ranma to get back. I think you're right. It's our best bet. If anyone can defeat the old ghoul, he can."

Kuno looked at her pointedly, but his expression had long since lost the defensive arrogance he'd worn earlier. In fact, he seemed almost pleased at this, the first time Nabiki had actually conceded that he was right about something.

"This is one of the dilemmas I have pondered whilst you were unconscious," he said. "How will we know when Ranma returns from the mountain? We dare not return before hand, and, even should he be victorious against the old woman, he knows not where we are."

Nabiki looked over at him slowly. "Very insightful, Kuno," she mused. "Who would have thought that a semblance of a mind existed under that vapid exterior of yours?"

Kuno returned her half-lidded gaze. "Who would have thought that a human being existed under that frigid granite facade of yours, Nabiki Tendo?"

Nabiki almost smiled. "Touché."

And then she fought the urge to turn away, squelching her pride that still seemed insistent on not giving an inch to this guy. But she was sure that Kuno's ego was bigger than hers, and yet, after an afternoon filled with his own cruel, soul-altering revelations... _he_ had it in him to eat humble pie.

Well, if he could do it without gagging, so could she.

"But to answer your question," she said, "one thing is certain. Ranma won't come back without Akane. When he rescues my sister from the Kami Plane, I'm betting that our memories of her will be restored. And _that_, Kuno, will be our signal to go back."

"Memories?" Kuno raised an eyebrow. "To what are you referring?"

Nabiki looked at him. "That's right, you don't know about the blood spell, or Akane in the Kami Plane."

Kuno frowned slightly. "I am assuming, from your words, that your 'long lost sister' is not truly held captive by a dragon on that cursed mountain, as you originally expounded."

"Not exactly."

His expression was somber as he held her gaze. "Perhaps it is time you fully enlightened me as to the real reason we have made this journey, Nabiki Tendo."

Nabiki nodded.

And so, in precise detail, without withholding a single secret, she told him. Everything.

When she was finished, they sat together, neither speaking, neither quite looking at the other.

"From what you have told me," Kuno said at last, "there is a great chance that Ranma might not return from his quest to challenge the Ancient One."

Nabiki shivered, her arms still wrapped tightly around her knees. She stared at the grass in front of her feet.

Ranma might not survive the mountain, true.

But if, by some miracle, he did survive, did manage to rescue her sister and return... what then?

Cologne had sounded so sure of herself, when she had told Shampoo that Ranma would be returning... willingly... with them to their Amazon village. And Cologne was many things, but she was not a fool. She would not have risked so much if she weren't positive of the outcome.

Cologne wanted Ranma, wanted him as a slave-husband for Shampoo. And she had confronted their little traveling party at the base of the mountain, fully expecting to accomplish that exact objective.

How?

Nabiki didn't know. But she had a few suspicions, and they terrified the hell out of her.

Death at the hands of demons might be a better fate. Gods forbid.

"Yeah," she said finally, hoarsely. "Shampoo didn't seem too keen on his chances of survival against the demon guardians without the protection of the wards."

Kuno looked at her a long moment. "I see." He closed his eyes.

Nabiki pulled at the blades of grass at her feet.

The wind brushed past them, softly, voicelessly. Above them, a few dim stars glinted in the darkening sky as the sun sank beneath the horizon. The spring mountain air was warm, and full of sound.

--------------------

Akane stood facing a lush, green valley. Above her, a sunless blue sky shone with its own light. Beyond the valley, jagged, snow-capped mountains loomed like watchful sentinels. She could hear the sound of a burbling stream nearby. And behind her, the edge of the Mists of Kami swirled and writhed at her feet.

"Susa-no-o!" she called.

Silence. The wind whispering through the tall grasses and tugging at the loose hair of her braid was her only reply.

Damn it! Where was he? He _had_ to be here. He himself said that he couldn't leave his personal realm without the Council jumping down his throat.

"Susa-no-o!"

She couldn't face the Shadowcat without his help. The demon was already on its way to the dimensional rip that led to the Ancient One's mountain. It had a head start. On top of that, she knew damn well that, if she fought the Shadowcat now, even at her skill level, it would most likely kill her.

What was the good of being able to fight demons if she didn't have the power to destroy the one that really mattered?

If only she had more time to train, to build her strength and speed enough so that she might be a match for the Shadowcat. But there was no time. She was risking a great deal just coming to Susa-no-o's realm in the first place, when she should be looking for the dimensional rip.

She was running out of time. And Ranma's soul was at stake.

"Susa-no-o! Answer me!"

Silence.

"Please!" Tears of frustration began to well up in her eyes. "If you're worried about me being angry that you transported me to Yuki-onna's domain, don't be! I'm not mad, really, I promise!"

Silence.

"Answer me, damn it! I know you're here!"

"Ah, but he's not."

Akane jerked around, her katana immediately unsheathed and ready, to see a small figure emerge from the black mists.

The diminutive man wore a long scarlet robe that hung heavily on his almost skeletally thin frame. His face was narrow and pinched, and his head was topped with a wiry thatch of yellowish white hair. The pale skin of his face, and the exposed skin of his arms and hands, were pocked with deep scars, as if puberty had been especially unkind to him.

Akane recognized him. She had met him once, briefly, a year or so ago, during her wanderings of the Kami Plane. The encounter had not been pleasant, as this particular deity came across as bitter, defensive and aloof. And, like so many others, he had laughed in her face when she had asked for his help in breaking the blood spell.

"Hoso-no Kami," she gasped. _Oh great. What is _he_ doing here?_

The God of Smallpox sneered up at her. "Pathetic little mortal. It only makes sense that you come running to this disreputable scoundrel for help."

Akane's eyes narrowed. She'd been intimidated by this deity in their previous encounter, but she'd changed a lot since then. Also, she knew from Susa-no-o that, out of all the gods, Hoso-no Kami wasn't much of a threat to anyone ever since a mortal vaccine had nearly wiped out the source of his power. There were only two strains of smallpox left in the mortal world, both kept safely isolated in scientific laboratories, and both were scheduled for total destruction in a few mortal years.

Hoso-no Kami was in no position to be snobbish.

She held her sword ready and glared at him. "Who are you calling 'pathetic,' you..." What had Susa-no-o called him? "You whiny little weasel-faced runt!"

She had the immense satisfaction of watching as Hoso-no Kami's pale face turned an interesting shade of red as his teeth clenched in fury. The scars on his face deepened to an angry purple. "Impudent child," he snarled. He took a menacing step forward, but Akane's battle aura flared, her sword flashed with power, and he froze, his cheek twitching as he eyed the blade with sudden nervousness.

"Where is Susa-no-o?" she demanded.

Hoso-no Kami eased away from her sword as subtly as possible, mustering the remains of his dignity. Then lifting his gaze to look her in the eyes, his pockmarked face split into a wickedly condescending grin. "It gives me great pleasure to inform you," he said silkily, "that in a unanimous ruling from the Council, the 'Impetuous Male' has been banished indefinitely to Yomi Land."

Akane blinked. Her skin felt suddenly cold.

Susa-no-o... banished? To Yomi Land? The terrible, hellish realm where the unwilling inhabitants suffered infinite, indescribable torment...

"Why?" she whispered hoarsely. "What did he do?"

Hoso-no Kami smirked. "He helped you, of course."

Akane paled.

Hoso-no Kami smiled smugly and crossed his thin, scarred arms over his chest. "Yes, I'm afraid he disobeyed the strict stipulations against interference with mortals that were placed on him by Izanagi, Izanami, and Ama-terasu. Oh, he was very subtle at first. The comb he gave you was very clever. It disguised his power so carefully that we nearly didn't catch him. But then, when he used all that raw power just to teleport you out of the Gaki Realm to safety..." His eyes glinted with dark amusement. "Well, it wasn't too hard to figure out what he'd been up to."

Akane glared at the diminutive deity, trembling, her eyes wet with tears.

No wonder Susa-no-o hadn't answered her mental calls through the comb when she awoke in Yuki-onna's domain.

He wouldn't be able to help her with the Shadowcat; wouldn't be able to help her save Ranma...

And he was banished to Yomi Land. He was suffering, and would suffer for who-knows-how-long, all because of her, all for her sake...

Hoso-no Kami stood before her, gloating as he watched all of those horrified realizations play across her face.

"You bastard," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat. "How could you punish someone just because they helped me?"

"Quite easily." Hoso-no Kami regarded her coolly. "He knew the rules; he broke them. Susa-no-o is an arrogant, insubordinate trouble-maker, who never should have been let out of Yomi Land in the first place. It is only fitting that he should spend the rest of eternity suffering for his lack of respect for his superiors."

Akane could barely contain her fury. "And I suppose you consider yourself his superior?"

"Of course. I _am_ on the Council, after all."

He was on the Council. He had helped repay Susa-no-o's kindness towards her with unspeakable punishment.

Akane's battle aura blazed a blinding azure, licking along the blade of her katana. "Get. Out. Of. My. Face," she snarled slowly, "before I do something I probably should regret... but won't."

Hoso-no Kami just stared at her blankly for a moment, unflinching before the power of her ki.

Then, he winked at her.

"That's my girl, Akane-chan," he said in a strong tenor voice, instead of the nasal whine he'd spoken with before. A wicked smile lit his scarred face. "What a little spitfire you are."

Akane blinked. Then, slowly, her expression went slack with shock.

"Suh..." Her battle ki flickered uncertainly. "Susa-no-o?" Her voice was heavy with disbelief.

He grinned, brought a thin finger up to his puckered lips, and winked again. "Shhh," he whispered conspiratorially. "Don't want this getting around, know what I mean?"

She blinked again, looking into Hoso-no Kami's eyes, as if hoping to see Susa-no-o's obsidian black gaze staring back at her. But the eyes were just a murky brown.

"Is it really you?" she asked, suspecting a trick of some kind.

He threw his arms open wide. "In the flesh. Someone else's flesh, to be precise." And he laughed.

The laugh clinched it. She would have recognized that boisterous, arrogant chuckle anywhere.

Her eyes were wet, and her lips began to tremble. Susa-no-o. He was here, he was safe, he could help her...

"You..." Her wet eyes suddenly hardened. "You _bastard_!"

Susa-no-o's cocky demeanor suddenly slipped. Then his eyes widened in alarm, and he leaped back as Akane took a fierce swipe at him with her katana. "Whoa! Akane-chan, what--?"

"Don't 'Akane-chan' me," she cried, swiping at him again as he frantically dodged. "I was _worried_ about you, you JERK!"

Susa-no-o ducked, and a few of his wiry gray hairs fluttered down around his pockmarked face. But the grin was back, looking very odd on Hoso-no Kami's face. "Ah yes!" he crowed. "Truly, one of my finest performances!"

Akane choked back a shriek of outrage, grinding her teeth together. She was angry, yes. But, on a much deeper level, she was so incredibly relieved, she could taste it.

So instead of shrieking, she paused in her attack, and eyed the god levelly. "Hey. You said once that you could recover easily from dismemberment, right?"

Susa-no-o blinked at her, surprised, then glanced at her sword. His smile became somewhat lopsided. "Um. Er. No?"

"Liar!" She swiped at him again. But now, _she_ was smiling, her narrowed brown eyes glinting.

He twisted out of the way. "I'm impressed, Akane. Here I thought you had no sense of humor." He said it cheerfully, but a bit of the smugness was gone from his voice, she noted with satisfaction.

"Oh yes, you're a barrel of laughs. Now shall we see if I can make your personality even more 'dis-arming?'"

Susa-no-o groaned. "I take it back. That was a terrible pun. Besides, I know you don't actually plan on touching me with that thi-- ack!" A large piece of red sleeve from his robe fluttered to the ground. "Hey!"

"You were saying?" Akane smiled sweetly. Actually, he was right, she had no intention of hurting him, but she was enjoying this too much to quit now. _Let's see if the trickster can take it as well as dish it out._

He must have read her mind, because his expression became pained. "Akane, come on!" he pleaded. "I was just giving you a taste of my brilliant performance before the Council, so you could appreciate what I'm going through for you!"

That brought Akane up short. His performance before the Council? "What are you talking about?"

Susa-no-o sighed, a sign that he was going to start talking seriously. Akane relaxed her aggressive stance slightly. "What I told you before was true," he said. "The Council did find me out when I transported you to the Snow Woman's realm after you were so severely injured by the Shadowcat. The comb disguised my power, but unfortunately it wasn't strong enough to teleport you such a great distance. So I used it as a kind of power amplifier, and then just went all out to get you to safety." He pulled a bitter face. "The Council came after me a few minutes later."

Akane's eyes were wide. "What did you do?"

"Nothing much I could do, at that point. After all, not even I have the power to fight the entire Council. So they took me away for judgment, and unanimously voted to banish me to Yomi Land. Again." Susa-no-o's frown was genuine, looking very sour on Hoso-no Kami's face.

"But..." Akane gestured with baffled frustration at the form of Hoso-no Kami. "What happened? Why do you look like that?"

"Oh, this?" Susa-no-o glanced down at himself, with something akin to distaste. "Well, before they could carry out the judgment, I switched places with ol' Mr. Smallpox here. I knew that nobody would pay any attention to a miserable, powerless little has-been like him." A wicked grin melted Susa-no-o's scowl. "Heh. You should have seen his face when he realized what happened. He started going on and on to the Council about how I'd switched places with him. They didn't buy it. They thought it was _me_ putting on an act." He chuckled.

Akane was appalled. "Then... Hoso-no Kami is..."

"In Yomi Land, yeah. But hey, he looks like _me_, while _I _have to walk around looking like _this_ for a couple of eons." Susa-no-o grimaced. "Trust me, he got the better end of the deal."

"But... the 'infinite torment'..." Akane's mind was filled with horrible images of various kinds of terrible, physical torture. Even Hoso-no Kami didn't deserve such a fate.

Susa-no-o snorted. "Oh, Yomi Land is infinite torment, all right. There is absolutely _nothing_ to do there. It's quite possibly the most boring place in the universe. And just _try_ getting a decent cup of cappuccino."

Akane blinked. "You're putting me on."

The deity cocked an eyebrow at her, enigmatically. "What's the matter? You're worried about Hoso-no Kami? The guy who did his best to spread an insidious, painful, disfiguring disease across the mortal world, killing countless numbers of people throughout history? Your pity is misplaced, Akane-chan. Besides, if I survived Yomi Land, he will too. It's not like he's going to be there forever. Believe me, if he were, I'd trade places with him in a second just to get my body back. Now, don't we have more important things to worry about at the moment?"

He was right. If she was going to be able to do anything to stop the Shadowcat and save Ranma, they had to act immediately.

"You know why I came looking for you, don't you?" she asked.

Susa-no-o rolled his eyes impatiently. "Of course."

"Good." She'd figured as much. Straightening, she sheathed her katana, and looked at him seriously. "Will that little trick you showed me, of focusing on a destination while traveling through the Mists, work for finding the dimensional rip that leads to the Mountain of the Ancient One?"

"It will."

Without another word, Akane turned and started for the Mists. She paused when she noticed that Susa-no-o wasn't following. "What are you waiting for? Let's go."

"Well..." Susa-no-o looked at her sideways. "I can't go with you, actually."

She turned on him, exasperated. "What? Why not? You know I need your help! I can't fight the Shadowcat by myself, and, now that you're disguised as Hoso-no Kami, you can go anywhere you want, right? I mean, you weren't here when I arrived, so you're no longer confined to your domain!"

"Think about it, Akane." Susa-no-o crossed his arms over his chest, and looked at her levelly. "If 'Hoso-no Kami' is found hanging out with you all of a sudden, especially around that particular dimensional weakness, the Council might think twice about dismissing ol' Mr. Personality's claim that we switched bodies."

Akane grit her teeth in frustration. She hadn't thought of that, but he was right. And she definitely didn't want to risk attracting the Council's unwanted attention. "Then can you give me another comb or something?"

"Sorry, I'm fresh out of cloaking combs." Susa-no-o shrugged in mock-helplessness. "Those things don't grow on trees, you know, and you broke my last one."

She wasn't sure whether to cry, or just punch him in the face. Her fists clenched, just in case she decided on the latter. "Well, then what _can_ you do? I'm running out of time, damn it!"

He smirked. "Calm down, Akane-chan. I wouldn't have risked coming to see you in the first place if I didn't intend to help you. Here." He tossed something long and thin at her, and she caught it easily with one hand.

It was a dagger, about 15 centimeters long, encased in a sheath made of some hard, glossy black material that she couldn't identify. Carefully, she took it in both hands, eased the blade from it's casing...

...and gasped.

The blade was translucent like glass, and it pulsed with quiet energy, as if it was made out of refined starlight.

"What is..." She caught herself. "I mean, what does it do?" she asked.

"It cuts things."

She glared at him. "Like smart-mouth deities?"

Susa-no-o chuckled. "No, really, I'm serious."

Akane stared at him incredulously. "What am I supposed to cut? You can't seriously expect me to get close enough to the Shadowcat to cut it with this little thing, do you?"

"Maybe."

"You have got to be kidding." She slid the small, pulsing blade back into its sheath and eyed the god, frowning severely. "Why do I get the feeling that you're not telling me everything?"

"Because I'm not." He grinned. "I always knew you were more perceptive than you looked."

Akane felt her irritation sizzle into outright anger. Swallowing hard, she forced back the urge to snap at him, and spoke with a calmness that surprised even her. "Look," she said coldly. "This isn't a joke. Ranma's soul and my life are on the line here. Stop playing around and talk to me straight for once." She felt the sting of tears burn her eyes. "Please."

Susa-no-o's smirk faded. "Hey. Come on, Akane-chan."

"No more mind games," she said hoarsely. "I want the truth."

He sighed. "All right, listen. I can't tell you what to do with that knife because, to be honest, I don't even know if it will do you any good at all." He met her gaze and, to her astonishment, she thought she saw a tinge of... apprehension in his eyes.

_He's afraid_, she realized with a jolt.

No, more than that. He was afraid for _her_.

The shock of that discernment rippled through her like a cold chill, and a sudden dread filled the pit of her stomach.

"I wish I could help you more," he said softly. "But this is the way it is. I may be able to wander around the Kami Plane as I please, now that I'm wearing a different skin, but unfortunately, it also means I'm more limited in my power than I ever was before. After all, Hoso-no Kami isn't known for being a serious magic producer. So you'll just have to trust me." He looked pointedly at the blade in her hands. "When the time comes for you to use that knife, you'll know what to do with it."

"But how do you know?" she asked. "Can you see the future?" Her voice was trembling.

"No." Susa-no-o smiled grimly. "But I can see you. I know you. You're about to walk into the biggest death trap you've ever encountered. You won't be invisible to the Shadowcat this time." He reached out, and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "But if anyone can save Ranma's soul, you can."

She nodded fiercely. Susa-no-o's grave words terrified her. "I will," she whispered. "Or I'll die trying."

"Yes."

Akane didn't ask which part of her oath he was agreeing with.

--------------------

Ranma spun as he felt the fetid breath on the back of his neck, and drove a ki-powered kick into a demon's face. He felt the thick exoskeleton give under the impact with a sickening crunch, but didn't pause to contemplate as he leaped out of the way of the other demon's reaching black claws.

Damn. These demons were faster than the others. He didn't even have time to wipe the blood out of his eyes, trickling down his forehead from where he'd been grazed a few moments earlier.

He had long since given up firing his ki attacks. It took too long to form the powerful ball of energy in his hands, and then fire it towards whichever slavering, bristling abomination from the darkest pit of hell was closest, before the monster was practically on top of him trying to bite off his head. So instead, he kept his fierce ki focused tightly around his body, around his arms and legs, and just used himself as a blunt instrument of demonic destruction.

How long had he been at this? Minutes? Hours? Days? He couldn't tell, couldn't dwell on something as unimportant as the passage of time, when he was fighting, constantly fighting for his life...

It felt like years.

...slash, punch, kick, jump... A demon falls at his feet, dead, yet somehow still moving... only to be replaced by more from the darkness... an endless, replenishing supply of creatures from nightmare.

And, of course, there were the ones that didn't come out to fight. The ones that stayed hidden in the dark mist, calling out to him, mocking him, shouting at him, pleading with him, screaming and crying and sobbing... all with Akane's voice. Their tormenting calls mingled with the incessant drone of the spell voices in his head, and he did his best to ignore them all.

He was so tired.

Where the hell was the top of the mountain? He'd been climbing for ages.

A quick thrust of his stiff-fingered hand, and the clawed demon collapsed with a gurgling shriek.

Gah. He hated the killing, he hated the deaths, and the nauseating stench of their black blood. He kept going only because he knew it would all be over soon. He would have her back again, and then everything, all his pain and fear... would be worth it.

Right. He turned, his battle senses straining so much it hurt. Two more down, and...

...and...

Ranma blinked.

The attack had ceased.

The demons were still there; he could feel them lurking off in the mists. But, to his numb amazement, they were staying away.

Not letting down his guard, he took a moment to get his breathing under control, and to wipe the sweat and blood from his eyes.

And as he did, he noticed something glittering just out of his line of vision above him. He looked up.

Through thinning mist... he saw stars.

The evening sky still held a touch of blue from the fading day, but it was dark enough that the Milky Way was making its presence known, scattering countless tiny droplets of brilliant, comforting light across the darkness.

He turned slowly, hope surging within his chest and thickening his throat, burning away the pain and the fear and the anger that had covered him, like a black, oily film, for so long.

The peak of the mountain rose above the dark mists, towering over him.

He could see the dark opening of the Ancient One's cave from where he stood.

He stared, hardly able to believe his eyes.

"Akane," he breathed.

**She isn't here.**

Ranma's heart came to a shuddering stop.

He felt it, then; so suddenly, it was almost as if it came out of nowhere. It wasn't there, and then it was. The powerful, smothering evil assaulted his senses...

_No_, he thought desperately. _Please... it's not possible..._

He looked back down into the mists, his eyes widening, his blood suddenly throbbing in his ears. A cold sheen of sweat slicked his face with the blood. And the hope swelling in his chest evaporated, and seeped from him like so much steam.

The deep, growling voice penetrated his mind once again, even as he saw a pair of huge, glowing yellow eyes emerge from the mists. The Shadowcat's body, swathed in black ki, was nearly indistinguishable in the darkness as it padded towards him with languorous malevolence.

And at the sight of it, Ranma felt that terrible, feline part of his soul, the part that longed to steal his mind and devour his humanity, twitch in sudden gleeful anticipation of rejoining its master in mindless servitude.

"No," he pleaded.

The Shadowcat was laughing in his head.

The Nekoken surged so violently inside his soul that he gasped and clutched his chest, as if hoping to contain the beast within him.

He was trembling. Tears mingled with the sweat and the blood on his face. "No... Akane..."

**Akane couldn't make it. Such a shame. She never realized she couldn't have you.**

Ranma watched, listened, unable to move as the Shadowcat stood before him and bared its razor-sharp teeth in a gruesome smile.

**You are mine.**

--------------------

End of Part Nineteen


	21. Heaven and Hell, Part 1

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 20: Heaven and Hell, Part One

by Krista Perry

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The cool night air felt good on Kasumi's face as she emerged from the warm kitchen to the dining room. The patio door was open, spilling a rectangle of light into the dark back yard; light that was blotted by the shadows of two hunched figures.

"Tea, Father?"

Soun didn't raise his eyes from the Shogi board, knowing that if he did, Saotome would use the distraction to eat one of the wooden game pieces -- literally, since the man was a panda at the moment, and had little trouble chewing and digesting such unpalatable fare. "Why, yes, thank you, Kasumi," he mumbled.

Kasumi poured steaming green tea into her father's empty cup.

"Uncle Saotome?"

After an affirmative grunting response, she poured for the panda.

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have offered tea so late in the evening. But Father and Uncle Saotome had taken to playing Shogi far into the night, ever since Ranma, Nabiki and the others had left for China in search of her missing sister. She supposed they were doing it because, though neither of them would admit it, they were deeply, terribly worried.

And she was worried as well, she realized. Why else would she be up making tea at nearly eleven-o-clock at night?

"We should have gone with them," Father had said, out of the blue, a few days previous over a game of Go.

Uncle Saotome hadn't even blinked. "Why? So we could get in their way? Do you really think we would be more help than hindrance to their quest? How long since you truly practiced the Art, my friend?"

"My daughter has no skill in the Art whatsoever," Father snapped back. "And yet she went with them."

"And Ranma will protect her," Uncle Saotome soothed. "But Nabiki needed to go because, out of that entire group, she's the most level headed. Your daughter isn't one to fall apart at the first sign of chaos, and in that respect, she is more qualified than we are to make the journey."

Father nodded slowly. "Yes... yes, I suppose you're right."

"Of course I'm right."

Father fell silent. And then, a low whisper, so soft that Kasumi wasn't even sure she heard correctly.

"What cowards we are."

Uncle Saotome simply moved a game piece.

And that had been the last mention of the subject of Ranma's rescue mission for Akane. At least in her presence.

She hoped Nabiki, Ranma, and the others were okay.

And... Akane. The sister she couldn't remember. The youngest child of the Tendo family, whisked away to a terrible, frightening, dangerous plane of existence, where demons dwelled...

She didn't want to think about that.

It had been nearly a month since the blood spell had stolen Akane from their lives, from their very memories. Many things could happen in a month, Kasumi knew. So much had happened in her own home in the past few weeks; so much chaos, so many sleepless nights of fear and worry for Ranma, for her family... she dared not even think of what might have happened to Akane. The prospects were far too frightening. And not knowing was torture.

It didn't matter to her that she couldn't remember Akane. Just knowing she existed was enough. Even without memories, Kasumi felt as if she knew this girl, her youngest sister. The photos she'd found. In most of them, Akane was smiling... or scowling. A pretty girl, so much like Mother. And yet... full of fire. A tomboy. The weights, and the thread-bare yellow martial arts gi. The homework, the dried flowers on the wall. Mother's cookbook, folded to the "How to Boil Water" page. The botched attempts at knitting and needlework hidden amongst the clothes in her dresser. All spoke volumes about the girl's personality. She must be a hard worker; determined, if undisciplined. Impatient, but sincere. A rough, unpolished diamond... but a diamond all the same. For, most revealing of all... Ranma loved her. Her, above all the girls who would have him. Akane must be an extraordinary person indeed.

Yes, Kasumi felt as if she knew Akane.

And yet, even with all those pieces, the puzzle was incomplete. No remembrance of her living face, no memory of a warm, loving touch... she didn't even know what Akane's voice sounded like.

She wanted to know.

In spite of the lack of memory, the great hole in the puzzle, Kasumi found that she cared for the missing girl. Loved her. Feared for her. Hoped that she was still alive...

She prayed that Ranma would be able to rescue her in time. For how could one such as this lively, yet insecure child survive, she wondered, in such a dangerous, inhuman realm as the Kami Plane?

Kasumi leaned wearily against the door frame of the kitchen, the cooling tea kettle still in her hand, and watched as her father listlessly moved another Shogi piece.

_Ranma... please bring Akane back to us..._

--------------------

Akane ran.

The blinding, black Mists of Kami were cold and moist against her face, whispering through her loosely braided hair, trailing in damp tendrils behind her. Even so, she didn't hesitate in her head-long flight through darkness, trusting in her battle senses rather than her eyes to keep her from stumbling, falling. She ran, her feet springing with each step against the unseen, spongy ground.

Her throat was dry with fear.

_You're crazy, you know_, she thought to herself. _This is a suicide mission. The Shadowcat will eat you alive. It will eat you alive, and then it will go to the mortal plane and take Ranma and rob him of his sanity, his humanity, alter his very soul until he's a mere mindless shell of feline instinct within a human body..._

Spurred by the terrible aching dread the thought induced, she ran faster.

No... Ranma wouldn't be _completely_ mindless. After all, didn't the Shadowcat itself say that, in spite of the Nekoken, and in spite of the Kami Plane's spell of Forgetfulness, some deep part of Ranma's altered soul... remembered her?

But no, that was just because of the blood spell. And if the Shadowcat killed her, the blood spell would be broken. And then, without that interdimensional connection, even Ranma's buried, transformed spark of human intellect would forget her.

He would forget her, she knew, if she died in the Kami Plane. And then it wouldn't even matter if her soul continued on as a disembodied spirit, traveling to some other plane of existence -- or worse, lingering in eternal, unfulfilled misery. For in the mortal plane, she would cease to exist as if she never was, not even living on in the minds and hearts of her family and friends...

She cut off the thought abruptly.

_Get a grip_, she told herself. _Don't think about it anymore. Just run, just get there, and don't disrupt your focus worrying about all the infinite what-ifs_.

The mist parted before her and closed behind her, sifting and writhing in a dark wake with her swift passage.

_No choice, no choice. I've come this far, I can't fail now. I just _can't_. To fail now would render everything meaningless..._

Before her, a filtered gray light registered in her direct line of vision. The Mists began to thin.

Almost there.

She pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth, forcing moisture into her mouth.

A deep, strangling sensation of intense evil swelled before her, squeezing tightly around her torso and throat, as if its mere presence could force the very breath of life from her.

She slipped out of her dead-run to a stealthy, silent creep. Reaching over her shoulder, she unsheathed her katana and swallowed thickly through the tightness pressing against her esophagus. Her eyes were watering, but she blinked the wetness away. She forced her rib-cage to expand against the suffocating heaviness with quiet control...

She halted in surprise.

More than one demon. Many, actually. She could feel them, a few clustered together before her, one or two scattered off to her sides.

_Ambush--_

Even as the thought pierced her mind, she felt something dropping down on her from above. Whirling, her blade flashed in a swift arc over her head. The winged creature, swooping at her with outstretched talons, screamed as it fell to the moist ground with two distinct wet _thumps_. In the thinning mist, Akane could see a mass of midnight-black feathers, lying in pooling black-red ichor -- a crow demon, she realized. And, even as she saw the fire of maliciousness and agony sparking in the beast's three blinking eyes as it flopped around helplessly on its remaining wing, she stepped forward and, with one clean motion, lopped off its head.

She hated messy kills.

Flat-eyed and tight-lipped, the terrible calm of battle settling upon her, she turned and stepped out of the Mists into a strange gray landscape that seemed almost as featureless as the Mists themselves. The other demons were coming at her then, shrieking and giggling and hissing...

She barely noticed. Her heart contracted briefly with horrified realization.

The Shadowcat wasn't there.

Oh no...

It wasn't there. Where was it then?

But there was no time to wonder, because the demons were upon her, and there were a lot of them, five, no six... Six against one, and they were huge, bristling with venomous claws and fangs and pincers and mandibles and spikes and burning feathers, and their eyes were aflame, red and gleaming wetly with blood lust, and those that had mouths were grinning madly...

A flash of her ki-lit sword, and the nearest one fell, grin intact on its severed head, even as she leaped up and over the rushing onslaught. Before the demons could adjust to her new position, another one slumped heavily to the ground with a strangled gurgle. Akane pulled her sword from the back of its thick neck and leaped out of the way as a sticky spray of webbing shot at her from a spider demon.

A swift kick, and one of the spider's fragile forelegs crumpled, even as sharp pain stabbed through Akane's foot. The huge arachnid's monstrously humanish head emitted a thin, reedy shriek of agony. And, as the demon swiped fiercely at her with its other legs, Akane saw the source of her foot injury -- the spider's legs were covered with bristle-like hairs that glinted like steel needles. She could feel the blood already soaking her boot, but she ignored it, leaping out of reach of the spider's dangerous flailing limbs...

...and into the next demon, a leather-skinned oni with flames licking out of its slavering mouth. And another demon was coming up behind her; she could feel its anticipation as it thrust a clawed appendage forward to puncture her torso--

She wasn't there. And in mid leap, she grabbed the sluggish oni's shoulder with her free hand, twisted, and cleanly decapitated the fire-breathing creature. Then, grunting with exertion, she yanked the oni corpse as it fell so that the flames erupting from the stump of its neck caught the other demon full in the face. The stench of burning demon flesh filled the air, along with the sound of the creature's screams. And Akane silenced those a moment later.

Already she was gasping for breath. Her nose and eyes stung and watered from the dark burning ki that swirled about her.

Another one, to her left. She began to turn... and found herself sprawling on the ground. She landed hard on her chest, the air rushing from her lungs, and, as she wheezed for breath, she felt rather than saw that her legs were bound with sticky spider webbing. Without hesitating, she rolled over onto her back and thrust her katana upward, into the gaping maw of a wolfish demon. The rank smell of its last breath filled her nostrils as she saw the fire die within its eyes. The clawed hands went limp mere centimeters from her chest.

Akane shoved the body aside, pulling her blazing katana from the demon's skull and severing the webbing that bound her legs with a single quick movement. But the spider demon was already there, almost on top of her, and her sword clashed with its glistening, steel-like fangs as it bent over her. She grunted, using all her strength to hold the monster's head and clacking mandibles at bay, then cried out as she felt a sharp needle-sting against her arms and back as the creature reached behind her with its barbed forelegs, and gathered her in closer. Venom began to ooze eagerly from the glinting fangs. A greenish drop fell, narrowly missing Akane's bare sword hand, and sizzled against the ground.

Enough. Lifting her uninjured foot, she fell backwards and kicked up against the spider's abdomen, gritting her teeth in pain as the barbs pierced deeper into her skin as she fell against the ground. But the demon flipped over her head and onto its back, and in the next moment, she was standing over the creature.

A swift flash of her sword, and the segmented body collapsed, quivering, in two neat pieces. The spider's spindly legs immediately curled up towards its exposed underbelly in an insectoid rictus of death.

Suddenly, she could breathe again.

And she was shaking.

Wiping her stinging eyes, Akane looked around frantically, ignoring the carnage, the smells of burning demon flesh, of ichor and her own blood, ignoring the biting pain of her wounds, her bleeding shoulders and arms, her punctured foot.

The Shadowcat...

It wasn't there. She couldn't feel it, couldn't feel anything...

Something flickered in her peripheral vision, and she turned, startled.

There, not far from where she stood, a strange, rippling grayness hung in the air. She blinked at it, almost unsure if her eyes were playing tricks on her. But no, it was there, wavering before her like a heat mirage in the desert.

The dimensional weakness. The mortal plane and the Mountain of the Ancient One were just on the other side of this disturbance in the fabric of space and time.

She stepped towards it hesitantly, then froze as she caught sight of something on the ground in front of her.

A huge paw print. Placed deep and purposefully, with the claws extended, in the soft ground in front of the flickering grayness.

Akane felt her heart shiver to dust within her. Her wide, horrified eyes were wet with disbelief. It couldn't be.

She lifted her gaze to the visible tremble in the air, to the fragile dimensional fabric that separated her from the mortal plane, her home.

Her ichor-stained fist tightened around the hilt of her blazing katana. With a determined snarl that was almost a sob, she slashed at the dimensional weakness.

It parted cleanly, like a fleshy membrane under a surgeon's scalpel--

--and Akane choked out a cry of pain, even as her katana fell from her paralyzed fingers. She collapsed stiffly to the ground under the sudden assault of soul-tearing agony that ripped through her body.

She was on fire, she was breaking apart, dissipating molecule by molecule, and it hurt, it hurt so bad she couldn't see, she couldn't think, she couldn't scream oh please make it stop please please please...

The slice in the dimensional fabric slowly closed in on itself, sealing the hole as if it had never been.

And the pain ceased.

Gasping, Akane lay sprawled and trembling on the soft ground, strands of her long hair clinging to her tear-streaked face.

She was too late. She hadn't made it in time. The Shadowcat had passed through the rift to the mortal plane.

And the blood spell wouldn't allow her to follow.

_Ranma..._

Her wracking sobs were swallowed in the thin grayness of the limbo realm.

--------------------

The Shadowcat stood before Ranma, unmoving, waiting patiently for the boy to succumb.

Ranma felt the symbiont feline soul within him claw its way up from the depths of his being like a black wave, drowning his humanity in its wake. Groaning in agony, he fell to his knees trembling, one hand clutching at his chest as the other shakily entwined itself in his dark, spiking bangs, pulling at his hair, the heel of his hand pressing into his forehead as he desperately fought to hold onto himself.

But it was no use. The fog of the Nekoken seeped into his mind, and he could feel his human intelligence slipping away. The words in his mind were slowly becoming mere sounds, without meaning or substance...

"No." A single word; a hoarse cry through clenched, grinding teeth. But it was a word all the same, a piece of language that he hadn't yet lost. He clung to it like a lifeline. "No, no, no, no, no..."

As Ranma chanted his mantra of sanity, the demon looked down at him, its yellow eyes glinting in amusement. **Stop fighting it, Ranma.** The Shadowcat's telepathic voice was a soft, purring chuckle; a light, painless touch of a mental razor in his mind. **It won't be so bad, really. And I promise to take good care of you.**

The meaning of the Shadowcat's words slowly filtered into Ranma's clouded mind, adding to his fear, weakening his fighting spark that was so focused on keeping the Nekoken at bay, on forcing back the raw, black terror that welled within him because of the demon's proximity.

After everything he'd been through. After coming so far. If he lost himself now...

"No, no, no..." he whispered, wetness leaking from his clenched eyelids.

There was something he was forgetting, he knew, something he had forgotten. Something that had slipped away with so many other things under the Nekoken's attack on his soul.

He reached after it, straining, knowing that it was important if only he could remember.

It was there, and his spark of humanity grasped onto it, clung to it.

A reason why he didn't need to be so afraid...

His curse...

Of course. His curse. The first time he was hit with cold water, the link would be broken, he would be free...

As the realization sank in, Ranma's will gained a bit of purchase against the Nekoken's onslaught. His mind cleared slightly, but even as it did, he again had to fight the urge to flee, to willingly sink beneath the black wave, simply to escape the mind-numbing terror of the beast standing before him, and the beast writhing within him.

The Shadowcat's huge glowing eyes narrowed as it felt the minuscule resistance of Ranma's human intellect. Then, its sharp-toothed grin widened as it perceived the source of the boy's hope.

The curse, indeed. The curse had always been a problem for the Shadowcat, shattering its Nekoken link with a mere splash of water...

**I have a gift for you, Ranma,** the demon said slowly, knowing the struggling boy could barely understand its words. **I think you'll like it. It's something you've always wanted. A cure for your curse.**

The demon waited for Ranma to react.

At first, nothing. But then, after a moment, it became plain that the irony was indeed not lost on Ranma. He had longed for a cure to his Jusenkyo curse, from the first moment the enchanted waters of the Nyanniichuan had worked their form-altering magic on him. But a cure now, at this moment, meant that there was nothing left to break the Nekoken link.

The boy didn't raise his head, didn't open his eyes, but his fingers clenched convulsively, tearing at his dark bangs, the heel of his hand pressing into his sweat-slicked forehead as if the mere action could loosen the demon's growing control of his mind.

"Y...you..." Ranma stuttered the word out through clenched teeth, not as much from his fear, as from the symptoms of his failing language skills, washing away in the wake of the growing feline instinct. "Nnn... luh... lying..."

The Shadowcat was impressed. The boy was so strong! He'd never resisted this long before, and here he was, still fighting, in the very presence of his Master.

Too bad it couldn't last, though.

**Why would I lie, when the hard truth is always more fun? I have in my possession a special artifact, forged at my request by an oni fire lord. It repels cold, keeps it from touching your skin. Your Snow Woman friend inadvertently gave me the idea for it, actually. After all, she's not the only one who can do tricks with temperature. And this is better, since your ki is so much stronger when you are in your true male form.**

The demon fell silent, waiting for Ranma's besieged mind to understand.

And then the Shadowcat felt the delicious surge of fear as the boy cried out, shaking his head back and forth as he clutched his temples with both his hands, his fingers digging into his scalp and drawing blood. "Nnnnnnnnah," he sobbed.

He was trying to say "no" again, the Shadowcat realized. How quaint.

So close. One more push should be enough.

The demon's eyes flashed, and a thin circlet of silvery scarlet metal appeared around Ranma's neck.

Ranma felt the unnaturally warm metal as it materialized against his skin. A collar. An animal collar that would lock him in his true form so that not even his curse could save him...

There was nothing, and no one to save him now. His fear was absolute, and he frantically grasped at the collar with both hands, to tear it away, but the metal was too strong, he was too late, he was lost...

_...Akane..._

Shaking, Ranma fell to his hands and knees, his fingers curling instinctively to claw at the earth beneath him. The inhuman scream that tore itself from his throat was filled with despair.

The Shadowcat closed its eyes in a rush of pleasure as it felt the Nekoken link throb quietly to life between them.

--------------------

Akane's eyes flew open as she heard the scream. Faint, muffled and distant, anguished and bereft of humanity, it filtered through the thin membrane that separated the Kami Plane from the mortal realm.

_Ranma._

It was him, his voice. She recognized it, even now after so long, even though she'd never heard him scream like that before, such a terrible sound of hopelessness...

_The Shadowcat_, she realized with a horrified despair that seemed to resonate with the lingering echo of the scream. _Oh gods. It has him_.

Too late. She was too late. Ranma was lost to her forever. She would never see him, or her family, again.

Still trembling from the after-effects of the abated dimensional forces that had tried to tear her apart, she pushed herself up to her hands and knees. Her long, thick hair hung loose and tangled around her face, torn free of its braided fastening, and matted with blood in places from the wounds on her back.

She couldn't stay here. She couldn't stay in this place where Ranma's tormented, inhuman voice might seep through the barrier while she sat helpless, unable to do anything...

It was over.

And the Shadowcat had won.

Her soul felt hollow. As cold and empty as the vacuum of space.

Five years of longing, hoping, fighting with every ounce of her being... for nothing.

What was she to do now? Live out the rest of her life in the Kami Plane? Grow old and die with this terrible loneliness, a sole human amidst gods and demons that were ofttimes indistinguishable from each other in behavior?

A tremor passed through her. No. She couldn't live like this.

Gradually, she became aware of a strange weight against her hip. She looked down.

The dagger that Susa-no-o had given her. The dagger that was supposed to help her defeat the Shadowcat and save Ranma. Beautiful and useless, it hung from her belt in its ebony sheath. She pulled the softly-glowing blade from its casing.

Refined starlight.

She regarded it with near contempt.

Susa-no-o had said that she'd know what to do with it when the time came.

Slowly, numbly, she grasped the hilt with both hands and held the glittering edge just above her stomach.

After a moment of dead-eyed contemplation, she brought the point of the blade up to her chest until it rested over her heart.

Through the heart, like Juliet, weeping over her dead lover amongst the tombs of the catacombs. Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?

And she had wanted to play Juliet for so long.

Had she remembered back then -- a lifetime ago as she stood with him on the school stage, staring with nervous excitement into his blue eyes on a balcony facade, listening to her own heart pound in deeply veiled anticipation -- that "Romeo and Juliet" was a Tragedy?

A quick thrust of the blade, and it would end. And with the blood spell thus broken, the Kami Plane would erase her existence from Ranma's memory. Maybe then, at least, his transformed mind wouldn't be tormented forever with images and feelings for her that he couldn't even comprehend. Perhaps then he wouldn't suffer so...

The tip of the blade pierced the fabric of her tunic and pricked the skin underneath. A drop of blood welled between her breasts.

Akane's eyes widened. Her hands trembled. The sound of his scream still lingered in the air.

A thin, keening wail softly emerged from deep in her throat; a sound that mirrored the misery in her wet eyes -- misery that was slowly flaring to determined desperation.

Her grip tightened on the hilt of the dagger...

... and in a flash, she stood, and, with a great cry, plunged the blade into the membrane between dimensions.

Searing pain spiked through her arms, torso, and legs, and lit violent sparks behind her eyes as she slashed the blade downward, opening a narrow slit to the mortal realm. She didn't care. If she was going to die, she would die fighting.

The moments of shattering torture passed with infinite slowness as Akane cleaved the dimensional membrane in two.

To her surprise, she didn't collapse to the ground, incapacitated with agony.

Akane's streaming, clenched eyes flew open as she realized the significance of that fact. She was still standing. The pain was terrible, true; she could barely move for the agony coursing through her body... but she didn't feel as if she was being ripped to shreds.

Looking down, through her pain-blurred vision, she saw Susa-no-o's dagger.

The blade was flaring like a small sun in her hands as it parted the barrier before her.

_You'll know what to do with it when the time comes_.

Akane almost smiled through her pain. If she survived this, she was going to kill that bastard deity. Okay, maybe not kill, but at least make him suffer a bit. Stupid Susa-no-o, and his veiled implications and incomprehensible riddles. He claimed he had a good reason for not telling her what the dagger was for. But what if she had gone through with it, and killed herself with his gift in that blackest moment of despair?

Heh. That would have shown him, alright.

Gritting her teeth, she pressed forward with her hands, hoping to push her arms through the gap. The pain increased until it was nearly unbearable. Her trembling knees began to buckle beneath her. Groaning, she withdrew, keeping the blade within the opening to keep it from closing completely.

So. Even with the dagger, the blood spell still wouldn't allow her into the mortal realm. But at least this blade was keeping its magic from tearing her apart completely, even so close to the mortal realm's proximity.

A sudden fit of convulsive coughing wracked her trembling body. Specks of scarlet splattered against her hands.

Maybe the dagger was holding the blood spell at bay. But only barely.

She didn't have much time.

She pressed her body against the dimensional barrier, her hands clenching desperately to the hilt of the dagger as she widened the slit.

"Ranma!" she screamed through the opening. "RANMA!"

--------------------

The creature that had once been Ranma cowered on all fours before the huge, gloating Shadowcat demon, hissing furiously, his dark hair standing on end, his wide eyes feral in his human face.

The feline instinct that filled his brain was screaming for him to run, to flee from the savage threat in front of him... but he couldn't move. His legs weren't working, and he couldn't understand why. He hissed and spat in terror.

The Shadowcat stood motionless, glazed eyes nearly closed, its mouth hanging open slightly in ecstasy. The demon could feel Ranma's desire to run, but held the boy immobile with a little exertion of will. Soon enough, it would allow the boy to roam wild -- once it had killed Akane. Then, without the blood spell's interference, it could take Ranma to the Kami Plane, where the realm's magic would erase the boy from mortal memory. And then, no matter where Ranma wandered, there would be absolutely nothing that could come between it and its precious prey--

"...Ranma!"

The Shadowcat turned, surprised, as Akane's distant scream filtered through the heavy silence.

Then, it grinned, gums pulling back from white, needle-sharp teeth in a delighted grimace.

She was here, just a few meters away, at the dimensional weakness. How wonderfully convenient. Now it wouldn't even have to mount a long, difficult assault on the Snow Woman's barrier to reach the girl. Akane had succumbed to its taunts, and had rushed right into its waiting claws. And now, it had all of Ranma's powerful ki with which to kill her.

"Ranma!" The cry was faint, desperate, and full of agony.

The Shadowcat blinked. She was in pain?

The fool girl wasn't trying to come _through_ the dimensional fabric... was she? The blood spell would kill her first.

The Shadowcat tilted its head indifferently at the prospect. Ah well. Though it would be infinitely more satisfying to rend her to pieces with its own claws, it didn't really matter how she died... just as long as she died.

The demon looked down at Ranma's trembling form through slitted, gleaming yellow eyes. The boy was staring up into the Shadowcat's face, paralyzed, hissing wildly, too terrified to even notice Akane's faint cry. The Shadowcat's ears twitched with mild amusement, and it glanced back down the mountain to where the dimensional veil hung invisibly, the dark mists obscuring the slight quiver in the air.

"Ranma... please..."

She was begging. How sweet.

"...please, listen to me... It's me, Akane... I'm here..." The sound of her voice trailed off into a fit of thick, wet coughing. "Oh please... Ranma... Ranma, fight it..."

The Shadowcat felt something twinge.

And Ranma's hissing fell silent. The boy was still paralyzed, still trembling, but now he was... listening. No longer staring at the demon, but looking past it into the darkness. Towards the veil.

"Ranma, please... oh please, you have to hear me, you have to fight it, Ranma..!" More coughing, followed by a groan of agony...

A slight flutter rippled through the Nekoken link. The Shadowcat turned in surprise as Ranma shuddered convulsively, his eyes clenching shut, a strangled yowl escaping his throat.

"Ranma..!" Akane's voice, thick with pain.

Ranma's eyes flew open, hard and feral. A thrumming pulse ran through the Nekoken link... and the Shadowcat's tentative paralysis control shattered.

The demon blinked in amazement, torn between mild annoyance at the obvious results of Akane's interference, and delight with its prized possession. The boy was so strong!

Ranma looked at the Shadowcat, his inhuman gaze filled with terror and fury, and snarled, raising a curled hand--

The Shadowcat blinked in surprise.

--to claw viciously at the demon's face.

Instinctively, the demon leaped out of the way--

Not swiftly enough. Pain lanced through its side as four deep parallel gashes tore into its flank.

The Shadowcat emitted a bestial scream of pain as it landed neatly on four feet, its claws splayed on the ground, tearing deep ruts in the earth. It turned, eyes flashing, all humor gone from its blazing, black countenance.

Ranma was already running on all fours into the mists towards the veil, drawn by the sound of Akane's agonized, weakening cries.

The Shadowcat's eyes narrowed. **I think not.**

A deep scarlet aura flared around its body... and Ranma stumbled, collapsing to the ground in a boneless heap as the gaping wounds on the demon's body slowly closed.

The demon turned and slowly, purposefully licked its healed flank with its huge, rough tongue, tasting the bloody ichor that had spilled from the wound. Its narrowed yellow eyes glowed fiercely.

The boy had attacked. More importantly, the boy had wounded it. Ranma should not have been able to do either, not while under the Nekoken. The power of the Nekoken stemmed from the Shadowcat itself, after all. The power of the feline soul that had melded with and overwhelmed Ranma's humanity could not be used against its Master.

And yet, even now, as the boy lay gasping from the sudden ki drain, the Shadowcat could feel how Akane's voice was pulling at Ranma's mind and soul, disrupting the Nekoken link, undermining its control.

The Shadowcat turned towards Ranma's fallen form. The dimensional membrane lay a few meters beyond, where Akane's distant, pain-filled voice still filtered through, tainting the boy's senses.

Black ki flared around the demon's lean, muscled body like a hellish bonfire.

The time for playing with the prey had come to an end.

--------------------

"Ranma..."

The strange sound was weak, raspy, distant, familiar... If only he could find its source. But he was so tired.

Ranma lay where he had slumped onto his side, wheezing slightly, his wild blue eyes open, filled with confusion, fear, pain...

Pain. Strange pain, inside, where he couldn't lick his wounds, for it was deep where he couldn't see, and it hurt it hurt it hurt...

He needed to find the tall one with the liquid brown eyes, whose image and scent filled his mind. It was close. He could feel it, smell it... almost taste it. It was making the noise, he knew, and it sounded like pain and the sound made him hurt.

And the monster was coming. The terrible one that smelled of death and rot and blood, so dark with terrible bright eyes and claws and teeth, and when it was near, it made him want to run and run but he knew it would follow, it had followed, he would never escape.

"...please, Ranma, th... there's n-not much t-time... Unnngh... Wh-where are you?"

He needed to get up, he needed to find the tall one, he needed to run away because the monster was coming and he couldn't move, he couldn't do any of it and he needed to, he needed to

_Remember_.

remember because if he could just remember then he would be able to stop the hurt inside and the hurt in the sound, the voice, her voice

"Ranma..."

but he couldn't because the monster was closer and he couldn't move to stop it and

"Ranma, p-please..."

he had to because she was in pain, he could hear it in her voice, and he couldn't stand it when she was hurt, he had to help her and the monster was right next to him, it was moving past him, it was moving away, it was leaving him behind because it didn't want him it wanted her it was going to hurt her it was going to

"...help me..."

kill Akane and there's no way in hell he was going to let that happen.

Ranma's eyes widened.

--------------------

The link was faltering.

The Shadowcat snarled. Swiftly, now. A flash of claw, to shred the dimensional membrane. If the raw exposure to the mortal plane didn't kill her instantly, its claws could take care of the rest. And hopefully, Ranma was far enough away from the veil that the backwash from the Kami Plane wouldn't damage him too badly. But once Akane was dead and the blood spell extinguished, the boy's pain would cease. And anyway, Ranma had such remarkable regenerative abilities, any damage he might suffer wouldn't be _too_ permanent...

--------------------

_Remember._

He didn't want to. It was too awful, too humiliating. But Akane's voice pulled at him, as it always did. Her voice dragged his humanity from where it lay, submerged in animal instinct. And this time, unlike before, he felt every nuance of his awakening. He felt the feline part of his soul, still in control, trying to stifle him, trying to smother him with terror...

_Remember._ His own voice, in his own mind.

He remembered. So humiliating. He, the growing spark of intellect that was Ranma Saotome, was painfully aware that he couldn't even hold on to his sanity when Akane's life was at stake. He *hated* the mindless, feline part of him, the part that could defeat him, mind and soul, the part that, even now, was in control, refusing to relinquish its power over him.

And what would happen, if, by some chance, he succeeded in regaining control? The Shadowcat was still here. The demon would only take him again.

After it killed Akane.

Ranma twitched slightly on the ground, his wide eyes blank, his wild gaze turned inward.

_Defeated so easily, are you?_ His own voice, in his own mind. The last thin, pale ghost of his shattered confidence, back to haunt him. _Come on, I thought you were the great Ranma Saotome. I thought nothing could defeat you._

Bitterness. _Yeah, well, you're wrong. I've been defeated lots of times. _

_Yes... But you've always figured out a way to win in the end, haven't you? You've always managed to find the enemy's weakness, and use it against him. What is the Shadowcat's weak spot?_

Ranma trembled.

_It... doesn't have one. _

_Really? How do you know? Have you ever tried to stop being so blitheringly terrified of it to seriously think about the possibility that it might have a weakness? _

_... _

_What's so frightening about that beast, anyway? You've faced nastier, uglier things than that before. _

_But... it's a cat... _

_So what? _You_ happen to be a cat at the moment. Or had you forgotten?_

Ranma blinked.

_No. I haven't forgotten. _

_I... remember..._

...remember...

The memories flashed through his mind unmercifully.

...tearing up landscape, gouging deep ruts in stone and earth with a flash of his hand as he fought a bronze-feathered tengu...

...senses so sharp, like they were now, he could see the world around him without eyes...

...human again, and yet remembering, _feeling_ the Nekoken within him... recognizing it for what it was because of all the memories of his nightmarish week spent as an animal...

Ranma paused, as the significance of that memory struck him to the core.

The Nekoken was still inside him, still part of him... even when he wasn't under its influence.

And something more...

...snarling, hissing, reaching up with a curled-fingered hand to lash out at the Shadowcat; the wild fury, the rush of power as his ki shredded the demon's flesh...

He had hurt it. He remembered.

A shock of realization rippled through him, his entire being, human and feline soul alike.

The Nekoken had been a part of him for years. The symbiont feline aspect of his soul existed within him, even when it wasn't controlling him.

Maybe... without the fear... it _couldn't_ control him. After all, ever since he awoke from those days of being trapped in the Nekoken, his human intelligence had possession of all the memories, feelings, experiences of his feline side...

He remembered it all.

_That's it. That's the answer._

He, Ranma Saotome, remembered how to use the Nekoken.

When he was human.

It was _his_ technique.

And he sure as hell didn't need no stupid cat demon controlling his mind or draining his ki to help him use it.

"Ranma..." Akane's voice was so weak, so hoarse, he couldn't bear it. He had to save her.

He focused.

And there it was. The demon's link to his soul. It was easy to recognize. After all, it was the only part of the Nekoken that didn't feel familiar from when he was fully human. And it was no surprise that when he focused on it, he felt the terrifying presence of the demon Shadowcat.

He focused on it, and felt no fear.

Then, with little more than a mental shrug, Ranma severed the Nekoken link.

Intelligence flared in Ranma's wide, savage blue eyes.

--------------------

The Shadowcat felt the Nekoken link vanish, even as its claw flashed out to shred the fragile dimensional barrier.

No problem. It would simply reassert the link. But first...

The dimensional fabric parted cleanly beneath its claws.

Akane's scream of pain was beautiful -- raw, hoarse, with a slight gurgle... and quickly silenced.

Through the torn rippling in reality, the demon could see her body, lying on the ground. Her long, thick, blood-matted hair spread under her in a way that was most becoming, considering that she looked like a corpse. Her skin was pale, near white with a bluish tinge. Her eyes were open, but unseeing, and a trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth.

The Shadowcat blinked.

And yet, her chest rose and fell with rapid, shallow breaths. In one hand, she clutched a strange dagger. The blade glowed with faint luminescence.

By the gods. What did it take to kill this girl?

The demon grinned. Ah well, it would just have to taste her blood after all. What a shame.

The barrier was already mending itself, its torn edges quickly fusing together, so the demon raised its claws again to tear a greater hole; one through which it could crawl and--

_!!!_

-- it leaped aside, instinct guiding it as the grazing power of a tremendous ki attack destroyed the earth where it had been standing.

_What in the Seven Hells--?!_ The Shadowcat landed and spun in a flash, yellow eyes blazing with fury.

Ranma.

The boy stood upright before the demon, crouched in a ready stance. Bright tendrils of ki emanated from every inch of his skin, blazing around him, encircling him, lifting his hair in the updraft. He held his hands before him, his fingers curled into claws. His narrowed blue eyes shone with a fearless, feral gleam.

Ranma felt as if he was on fire, every sense alive and screaming with exultation. The symbiont feline part of him swelled and surged, without the binding, smothering terror that had been its master, merging with its host completely, its fierce ki and fighting spirit strengthening, rather than destroying the human soul.

It had a new master, and Ranma was more than willing to guide its tremendous power. He kept it under tight control.

He gazed at the demon before him stonily and didn't say a word. He didn't need to.

The Shadowcat's eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of him, then immediately narrowed with sudden understanding, black ki blazing in a surge of fury. The demon arched its back with a spitting hiss, then crouched in response, ready for battle.

It couldn't be, the Shadowcat raged silently. It was impossible. Then again, obviously it wasn't, for there Ranma stood, on two legs, his eyes blazing with savage, yet distinctly human awareness. And the Shadowcat had never been one to waste time arguing against the obvious.

The boy had claimed the Nekoken for himself.

So be it. There could only be one Master of the Nekoken. And, symbiont cat spirit or no, the boy was only human.

**Your ki was delicious, Ranma,** said the Shadowcat, snarling low in its throat as it crouched, tensed and ready. **But now I wonder, is your blood as sweet?**

Ranma snorted. "You'll never know." His gaze flickered a few meters to the right, where a strange, shimmering veil hung in tatters. Even as he looked at the unusual sight, the tatters were mending themselves, pulling together to form again seamlessly.

The Kami Plane lay beyond that weird shimmer. He knew, because Akane -- the _real_ Akane, and not some demonic illusion -- had called him back to himself. She had called to him across the dimensions. She had saved him. And she was still there, just beyond his reach.

"Akane!" He called her name anxiously, even as he faced the bristling Shadowcat demon. But if he could hear her through the dimensional membrane, maybe she could hear him. "Akane, are you okay?"

No answer. But she had to be okay; the spell voices in his mind insisted that she was alive, even though her brief scream and the memory of her agonized pleas still resonated in his heart, inspiring a terrible fear deep in his soul in a way the Shadowcat never did...

The Shadowcat pulled its gums back from its sharp teeth in a terrible grin. **You're too late,** the demon said. **She's dead. Or if she isn't, she soon will be. The blood spell is tearing her apart.**

Ranma choked back a cry of grief-laden rage. "Liar," he spat.

**Go see for yourself, if you don't believe me. That is, if you can get close enough to the open barrier without the blood spell sending you to your knees in agony. But by all means, try.** The demon raised a huge paw and flexed its extended claws. **You'll make it so much easier for me to put you out of your misery.**

Ranma snarled to himself, a distinctly inhuman sound. No option then. He couldn't get to Akane before the barrier sealed itself -- especially while the demon stood in his way.

Right then. Time to get rid of the demon.

He lashed out with his hands, feeling the claws of ki shoot from his curled fingers...

The Shadowcat wasn't there. Swiftly, Ranma turned...

And leaped out of the way of the demon's flashing claws, tearing right through the air where his torso had been.

His eyes widened. He hadn't realized the demon was so fast!

**Fool.** Another slash. He dodged, and it grazed his cheek, leaving a line of blood under his left eye. **You think that you can learn to control the power of the Nekoken in a few moments? You think you can use it against me?**

And then the Shadowcat attacked in earnest.

Ranma dodged and twisted desperately, and knew that, were it not for the Nekoken, he would already be dead. But he had new strength, new agility, and the power of his ki thrummed through his body like life blood.

Even so, the demon had him on the defensive. He was barely eluding the furious onslaught of razor-sharp claws.

**The power has been mine for millennia, boy. I am its Master. And you'll find it's not as easy as it seems, finding the perfect balance of intellect and instinct.**

The demon didn't even give him a chance to regain his bearings so that he could mount an offensive attack. He was simply dodging, running, trying desperately to avoid being turned into human confetti. And all the while, the demon's voice echoed in his mind with a maddeningly effortless dialogue.

**Too much intellect, and the power fizzles. Too little control, and the beast takes over.**

It was true, Ranma realized. He was thinking too much. He was so grateful to be free of the mindless instinct, that now he was smothering the very power that might save him. But... what if he lost control?

**Not that it matters. Man or beast, either way, you're dead.**

Another slash, grazing his arm. Ranma cursed silently. The demon was a blur, a shadow, a flash of gleaming eyes in the mist. And even with the Nekoken enhancing his battle senses to levels he'd never dreamed possible, he couldn't seem to get ahead. All his attacks were missing, merely flashing through a dark feline after-image and tearing up the mountain landscape. Impressive, certainly -- it made Ryoga's Breaking Point technique seem like crumbling dirt clods. But unless he could actually connect that power with the demon, it wouldn't do a thing to save him.

Or Akane.

"Ranma..."

Her voice, at the veil. A strangled, choking gasp of agony.

For a moment, his concentration nearly faltered, as he fought every particle of his soul that wanted to turn towards the sound of her voice.

**Well. Apparently I was mistaken. There's life in her yet. But not for much longer.**

It had to be her. She had called him back, after all.

"Ranma... help..."

_Akane._ Ranma clenched his teeth in agonized frustration, his eyes haunted and desperate as he continued to fight. He had to win! And fast! There was no time, and even if he won, he still had to find the Ancient One and get the dragon to break the blood spell...

"Ranma... I think I'm... dying...*

Ranma's mouth went dry. _Oh no._

"Please, I'm so scared..."

His heart felt as if it was being crushed within his chest. Tears stung his eyes, blurring his vision.

Claws shredded his sleeve, leaving shallow slices in the flesh beneath.

**What's wrong, Ranma? You're slowing down. I nearly got you that time.**

_Shut up, shut up shut up shut up... _

**What a callous fiance you are. Not even rushing to your true love's aid in her darkest hour. How terrible for her, to die alone.**

Ranma snarled in rage.

He had to win. It didn't matter that, on the deepest levels of his soul, where years of cumulative fear and clear memories of the past few weeks lay open and raw, the savage power of the Nekoken that he was wielding... terrified him.

But he had no choice. To win, to save Akane, he had to let go. He had to loosen his stranglehold on the beast within, so that it could help him defeat the monster in front of him.

Ranma swallowed and took a deep breath. With a part of his mind that wasn't focused on the battle and his internal struggle to control the wild forces within him, he realized his hands were sweating.

He didn't care. He reached within... and let go.

The feline instinct felt him relax his steel will, and immediately flowed to the surface of his mind, swift and sparking with terrible power.

Ranma bared his teeth in a savage grimace as he struggled to keep his human soul from drowning under the deluge of mindless instinct.

A risky balancing act. To allow the Nekoken some freedom, without letting it overwhelm his humanity. And then...

He gasped.

There. He felt it.

The Nekoken burned like a cool fire, just behind his eyes and under his skin. It coursed through him, like lightning. The world around him sang to his mind, vibrated within his senses like a tuning fork, like a resonating crystal.

The raw power of the Nekoken, experienced through the filter of his still-human awareness, nearly took his breath away.

Beautiful.

Terrifying.

No time to pause, no time to be amazed. With the full power of the Nekoken, Ranma swiveled, a blur of bright ki, his clawed hands flashing, his eyes gleaming savagely.

The Shadowcat shrieked in pain.

The smell of blood exploded in Ranma's head. Blood, and something darker, that smelled of death. The stench assaulted his senses, and he staggered as if from a physical blow, even as he saw that he'd slashed off a large portion of one of the demon's hind legs.

Scents of blood, of pain and fear and fury, the sound of the demon's screams rasping in his sensitive ears, sending his skin crawling... the instincts of hunger and the hunt... It was all too much, too fast. The cool fire of the Nekoken erupted with blistering heat, raging up in Ranma's soul with frightening, bestial vehemence...

...and Ranma found himself crouching down on all fours, an eerie, inhuman yowl issuing from deep in his throat as he faced the wounded demon--

_No!_ Ranma froze, then shook his head to clear his mind. Moments passed as he trembled, his eyes slightly glazed as he fought within himself to contain the reckless, wild power.

He held his breath, forcing the dark, wild smell of blood from his mind, his senses. Slowly, he pushed the Nekoken back down.

He straightened. He was human, dammit! And he intended to stay that way.

A few meters before him, the Shadowcat was occupied, licking and chewing at its wounded hind leg, making horrible bestial noises of pain.

_Can't steal my ki to heal yourself now, can you?_ Ranma thought with grim satisfaction. He wiped the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand.

Now, while it was distracted. He turned towards the barrier. With the precious moments he had bought for himself in battle, above and beyond anything else, he had to help Akane. Akane, who was scared, hurt... He had to let her know that she had saved him, that he was himself again, that he was coming to save her.

He had to let her know she wasn't alone...

"Akane!" he yelled. "Akane, I'm here!"

Something punctured his abdomen from behind, just above his pelvic bone, barely missing his spinal cord.

Stunned, Ranma looked down to see a single blood-stained claw withdraw from his body.

**Fool. Falling for it not once, but twice. I _told_ you she was already dead.**

Ranma blinked slowly. The world seemed to have rolled to a stop.

**You deprived me of your ki. So now I feed on your pain, your despair.** Ranma felt the hot, stinking breath on the back of his neck. The feline demon nudged him gently, almost affectionately, with its huge head. **You're a dead man with that wound. And it will be a slow, lingering death. I wonder, who will save Akane now?** Ranma shuddered once, and the Shadowcat let out a deep sigh. **Ah yes. Already, I can taste it.**

Ranma stumbled forward a step. He could feel the wound, long and thin through his abdomen, soaking his clothes with blood.

Not enough to gut him.

Enough to make him bleed to death.

He turned to look back at the demon. The Shadowcat stood on three legs, seemingly unmindful of its severed limb.

It was then, in the numb calm that settled over him, that Ranma got the idea.

_Really,_ he thought. _Of course. How could you be so stupid to have not thought of it before? _

_Hey, I had other things on my mind,_ he answered himself.

_Not that any excuse will help things now._

The dark beast looked at him a moment, silent and unmoving. Then it spoke again, and, to Ranma's surprise, the demon's voice was tinged with regret.

**You shouldn't have broken the link, Ranma. Really, I would have taken care of you.**

Ranma raised his hands in front of him, his fingers curled into claws. Ki flared from the core of his being, focusing in his palms.

The Shadowcat was unconcerned.

Ranma smiled. His blue eyes glinted with the untamed power of the Nekoken.

"Kachuu Tenshin Amagurikan," he whispered.

The Shadowcat didn't even see his hands move.

The demon blinked, surprised once again. There wasn't even any pain.

But it knew it was dead.

The Shadowcat's ear twitched in mild annoyance... and then slid cleanly off its head.

**Well, Ranma,** it said, holding perfectly still. **It seems the Nekoken is all yours... for the moment.** The demon looked pointedly at the blood soaking Ranma's shirt, then carefully slid its flickering gaze to look into his pale face.

It grinned nastily, and its face seemed to fragment with the flex of its muscles. **Enjoy my... gift.**

And then the Shadowcat fell to pieces.

...

Ranma didn't wait around to contemplate his victory. There was no time, he knew.

No time.

Pressing the heel of his palm against the hole in his abdomen in a vain effort to staunch the blood flow, he turned and staggered to the strange shimmer in the air, where he'd last heard Akane's voice. Her real voice. The voice that had called him back.

The gaping rips from the Shadowcat's claws were once again closed, but even so, he felt a tingle of pain through his body as he neared the dimensional veil.

Or maybe the pain wasn't from the veil at all.

No time.

"Akane..." It hurt to talk. His breath was starting to come in painful gasps, like when the Kuei held him, impaling him with ghostly fingers, keeping him in the thrall of a spell trance. Only this time, there was no way to wake up from the nightmare.

"Akane!"

No answer. Maybe she couldn't hear him if the veil was closed. Maybe she could, but was unable to answer. Maybe she was--

No.

"Akane." Ranma closed his eyes and leaned against the rippling shimmer in the air. It felt soft, pliable, almost liquid, yet it bore his weight, giving only slightly under the pressure.

The blood seeping through his fingers was warm, almost hot against his cooling skin.

"Akane, I'm here."

--------------------

Akane opened her eyes.

She heard a voice, distant and ethereal, as if the sound was seeping through deep fathoms of water.

Her throat felt raw, and she could taste blood in her mouth. Every single cell in her body seemed to ache; a quiet throbbing that was almost a relief in comparison to the agony that had nearly shattered her to the core.

But the agony was gone. She was in one piece. Alive.

And someone was calling her name.

Carefully pushing herself into a sitting position, she realized, absently, that she was still clutching Susa-no-o's dagger. She loosened her white-knuckled grip and let the pulsing, translucent blade slide from her fingers. As it fell from her hand to the ground, the blade's soft glow dimmed and went out, like a dying firefly.

Akane didn't notice.

She stood shakily and pressed her hands against the veil to steady herself.

"Ranma?" she asked, numb and fearful, not even daring to hope.

The voice, thin, echoing and ghostlike... and overflowing with relief. "Akane! Are... you okay?"

It was him.

Akane blinked once, a too-familiar burning sensation stinging her throat and nose and eyes.

She burst into sobs.

"Akane!" She could hear him panic at the sound of her uncontrolled weeping. "What's wrong, are you hurt, are you--"

Gasping, shaking, snuffling, she struggled to speak. "I'm fine, Ranma, I'm j-just so... so..." No words could describe what she felt. Ranma was just on the other side of the dimensional weakness that she was leaning against, he was so close, and infinitely far, and yet he was talking to her...

She paused.

He was talking.

"The Shadowcat," she gasped. "Ranma, did you--?"

"It's... dead."

The words should have brought her immense relief.

But she felt something, heard a strange hollowness in Ranma's voice, in those two simple words, even though the sound was distant and slightly distorted as it came through the vast filters of time and space.

_Oh no._

"Ranma..." Her joy at hearing his voice shriveled with the onset of fresh fear. He had fought the Shadowcat, the demon that was powerful enough to kill Masakazu, her Tengu sensei. Somehow, Ranma had managed to defeat it, but...

"You're... hurt, aren't you?" It was a statement, not a question.

There was a long moment of silence. Then, his reply drifted to her, quiet and echoing. "It's... just a scratch."

He had never been a good liar.

"Oh Ranma." She swallowed hard. "It's... bad, isn't it?"

"No." A pause. "Well... kinda."

Akane no longer even felt the tears streaking her face. "Ranma... you d-dummy," she whimpered.

His voice was weak with pain. "Aw... don't... don't cry, you stupid tomboy." Silence. Then, his voice again, thick with distress. "I... didn't m-mean that, Akane."

"I know," she whispered. "Neither did I."

And then she didn't know what to say. Her heart ached, and she wept silently.

After a moment, Ranma's labored voice sifted through the veil. "Akane... I'm... going to... break the blood spell now... okay? Then... you can... come home."

"Okay." She hoped he couldn't hear the utter despair in her voice. But he probably could. She could hear it in his voice, after all. "Please... hurry, okay?"

"... I will."

"I'll wait for you, Ranma."

Silence.

The silence lengthened, deepened.

Akane leaned wearily against the soft, rippling barrier. Her tears mingled with its fluid surface.

And she waited.

--------------------

One step.

Another.

Step. Focus.

Ranma trudged slowly up the incline of the Mountain of the Ancient One. He clutched his stomach with both hands. His shirt and pants, both front and back, were drenched in blood, making the cloth stick to his skin. Thin rivulets of scarlet seeped between his fingers and fell to the ground, splashing against the dust, soaking into the earth.

Step. Focus.

The mouth of the dragon's cave was just ahead. He could see it, there, at the very peak of the mountain. And above the peak, glittering stars lit the night sky, so bright that it nearly hurt his eyes to look at them.

How long had he been climbing? How long had it been since he left Akane at the veil? Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes or so? He couldn't tell.

Felt like forever.

He was in no shape to fight a dragon, he knew. He was in no shape to fight anything. He could tell, from the bluish tinge of his pale, bloodstained fingers, that the mortal wound had thrown him into severe shock.

It was so hard to breathe. The oni collar around his neck warmed the beads of cold sweat that stood out on his pallid, clammy skin.

_Where's the strength and power of the Nekoken when I need it?_ he wondered. But he knew. The feline part of his soul, like the animal it was, had crawled away to the furthest corners of his mind to wait for the end. And nothing he did within himself could seem to coax it back. His human intellect couldn't convince the poor beast that it was too soon to give up; that, no matter what, he _couldn't_ give up...

He was slowly losing the feeling in his legs.

He kept walking, forcing his trembling legs to move one step at a time.

Step.

Akane was waiting for him, after all. He had to break the blood spell. So she could finally return home.

And, if he was lucky, if he could just hold on, if he could just keep his blood inside him, keep it from leaking through his fingers, he would be returning with her.

It was then that Ranma noticed the dead man.

The dead man was sitting on a large rock, just off to the side of the narrow path that wound up to the Ancient One's cave. He appeared to have died by some sort of strangulation, for his face was bloated and purple, and his lolling, swollen tongue was black. Milky, blood-shot eyes, bulging unnaturally from his eye sockets, gazed at Ranma with simplistic patience as he sat, unmoving.

Ranma froze, his eyes narrowing as he automatically sized up the dead man. Was it a Kuei? Another vengeful ghost, come to stop him?

A breeze brushed Ranma's face, and he caught the smell of rot, of mold, and of damp earth.

The dead man watched him. Silent. Unmoving.

He wasn't attacking. But then, maybe he didn't want to fight, Ranma realized. Maybe he was just sitting there, for the sheer entertainment of watching him suffer, of watching him struggle to climb the mountain with his life slipping through his fingers.

The thought infuriated him. "What the... hell are you looking at?" he snarled, hating how weak he sounded. His breathing was quick and shallow. He couldn't seem to get enough air.

The dead man didn't answer. He probably couldn't answer. His black, swollen tongue filled his mouth. His bulbous, bulging eyes didn't blink as he continued to placidly stare into Ranma's face.

Ranma clenched his teeth. Fine. He didn't have time for this. He had to find the Ancient One.

A shaky step.

Another one.

He felt dizzy, nauseated. The cold, numbing dark fire of his bleeding wound burned away at his insides.

_Just... keep climbing,_ he thought. _Focus above the pain. You've done it before; it's easy. Pain is nothing. Stay focused on the goal. If the dead guy tries anything, you'll deal with it, but right now, he's just sitting there, so focus on finding that stupid dragon already... _

_Focus..._

The stars above the peak were so bright. His eyes hurt, and he clenched them shut briefly.

He opened his eyes again, slowly, wearily. And blinked.

The stars were going out.

Ranma blinked again. How odd... The sky was clear of clouds, and yet the brilliant points of light were winking into darkness one by one.

Another step...

...step...

...

There was a strange taste in his mouth. He slid his tongue against his teeth to see what it was, and the minuscule movement hurt, right down to the roots of his nerve endings. He didn't care. What was that taste?

Oh. The coppery tang of blood. And the gritty, silvery taste of dirt.

Dirt?

Ranma opened his eyes, wondering when he'd closed them, and saw nothing. When had it gotten so dark?

He couldn't see, but he found he could still feel, still hear. His cheek was pressed against the rough ground. A weak wheezing sound whispered through his parted lips. His tingling hands, moist and sticky, were pinned under him where he was still clutching at his ebbing life blood.

He couldn't even remember falling.

He tried to move, tried to pull his arms out from under him so that he could push himself back up.

All he managed was a slight twitch. His strength was gone. He felt as weak as a newborn kitten, and, if he weren't busy dying, he would have smirked at the irony.

He blinked, hoping to clear his vision. But the darkness refused to leave. He stared blindly at nothing.

_Come on,_ he thought to himself. _You can't do this. Akane's depending on you. Get up, dammit..._

Something touched the back of his head. Stroked his hair, gently.

Ranma felt his skin tighten in sudden fear. _The dead guy..._

He jerked, trying to get away from the touch, but the cold fire had spread through his limbs, had eaten away his sight, had reduced his ki to a flickering ghost. All he could do was tremble.

Then, a voice.

A voice... only he didn't hear it in his ears, or even in his head, the way the Shadowcat had communicated. It was just... there. Infinitely quiet, yet thrumming with finality.

Come, boy.

With those words, Ranma understood at last.

The dead guy... not an ordinary Kuei. No, not at all.

Panic filled him.

_No... I don't want to._

The Young never do. Come, boy.

Tears of helpless fury slid from Ranma's unseeing eyes, down his cheeks, moistening the dust, mingling with his blood.

_No. I won't come. _

_I have to save Akane..._

Yang Wu Ch'ang Kuei tilted his head patiently as he knelt over Ranma's prone form.

Willing or not, your time is done. You will come.

And he gently plunged his ghostly hand into Ranma's back.

Ranma felt it, felt the intangible hand carefully snag his soul.

And the dark cold fire of pain began to fade away.

_No..._ he insisted frantically. He fought against the pull with all his will, for it was all he had left with which to fight. _I won't come..._

But he could feel his heart, hear it beating in his ears. Not like the times when he was working out, those times he enjoyed, when he was pushing himself to his physical limits and could feel his blood thrumming through his veins making him feel so...

...so alive.

No. This heartbeat was weak. Weak, thready...

And slowing.

Slowing...

A tear escaped the corner of Ranma's open eye and slid down his cheek towards his ear, pressed in the dirt. _No, oh no, please, this can't be happening... _

_I can't die now..._

...slowing...

_I have to... find the dragon... _

...slower....

_I have... to break the blood spell..._

...slow...

_I... have to... _

Stop.

_... to save... _

...

Yang Wu Ch'ang withdrew his hand from Ranma's body.

And Ranma went still. His last breath slipped, a silent whisper, from his parted lips. The flickering spark of life faded from his wide blind eyes.

A long moment passed. And then, a thick red mist ebbed from the body, writhed in the air for a moment like a living thing... and vanished.

...

"Wow," said Ranma at last, looking rather shell shocked as he stared down at his lifeless body. "_This_ sucks."

Yang Wu Ch'ang Kuei, the Ghost of Impermanence, just looked at him, and said nothing.

--------------------

Akane's eyes flew open as a sudden chill rippled across her skin, shivering down her spine.

She could feel something moving inside her, a fluttering, like a ghost moth whispering through her, beating its wings against the inner surface of her skin--

-- and she gasped as the strange fluttering suddenly thrummed into a surge of power from the core of her being, blasting through her to the surface, escaping through her skin in wild currents of air.

It seeped from her skin, tingling, burning with cool fire.

And she could see it, hovering in front of her wide eyes.

Glowing, scarlet mist.

The blood spell.

Akane stared at it, fascinated. She didn't breathe. She didn't dare, out of the sudden irrational fear that, by inhaling, she might keep some of the mist inside her. So she held her breath as she watched the last of the scarlet mist ebb from her body.

The mist whirled for a moment, spinning aimlessly... and then it shimmered away into nothing. Disappearing without a trace.

Akane blinked.

She reached up numbly, unconsciously, to wipe at her wet, tearstained face with her trembling fingers.

The blood spell was broken.

After five years. It was finally broken.

Ranma had succeeded.

The ghost of a smile flickered at the edges of Akane's lips. Of course he had succeeded. He _always_ succeeded eventually. How could she have doubted him?

She was free.

A little, disbelieving laugh escaped her throat. She could barely comprehend the concept.

With a shaking hand, she reached over to where her katana had fallen, and grasped its hilt. She straightened, then slowly pushed herself to her feet, wincing at the thin, sharp pains shooting through her body. She ignored the pain, and looked at the dimensional veil before her.

_Home... Ranma..._

And she was suddenly afraid.

All her insecurities came flooding back to her at the prospect of once again coming face to face with Ranma. Five years. She was five years older than him, and it showed in her face, her body, her eyes. What would he think of her?

What would her _family_ think? She was older than Nabiki, older than even Kasumi now, by nearly two years.

She would be a stranger, a freak. A battle-hardened warrior, with terrible scars both within and without. Would they even recognize her?

She shook her head forcibly.

There was no time to be afraid of what might be. She had waited for this moment for too long.

There was no more hesitation. Not after five years of waiting.

She swung her arm in a quick, wide arc, and the veil parted beneath the glowing steel of her blade.

No pain. No force, nothing holding her back.

Akane sheathed her katana, and, with both hands, reached out to pull apart the severed edges of the veil.

The mortal plane. She could see mists. And above the mists, a jagged mountain peak. Above the peak, stars. The sky was clear and bright and glittering, and Akane realized she was crying as she felt the cool spring night air on the skin of her cheeks.

Her heart felt full to bursting with a plethora of emotions; a mixture of terror, ecstasy, and anticipation.

And, without looking back, she stepped through the dimensional rift to the mortal plane.

--------------------

A tremor passed through the Kami Plane as it unwillingly lost its sole human inhabitant back to the mortal realm.

The tremor pulsed and rippled, seeping beyond the Kami Plane's boundaries to where its extended influence lay, deep in the minds of those who had once known one Akane Tendo.

And the Kami Plane's Spell of Forgetfulness shattered.

--------------------

End of Part Twenty


	22. A Five Minute Interlude

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 21: A Five Minute Interlude

by Krista Perry

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Being helpless, Yuki-onna knew, was one of the worst things in the world. Having the knowledge that terrible things were happening, and yet being powerless, too weak to help. Knowing that people she cared for were in danger, in pain, and yet being unable to do anything except watch...

So she didn't watch.

Not knowing was a much better thing. And if she didn't use her mirror to view the mortal realm, she wouldn't know. She wouldn't see how Ranma fared on the Mountain of the Ancient One. She wouldn't see if the Shadowcat was there. She wouldn't see if Akane...

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. The now ever-present trembling ache of loneliness and fear throbbed, hot and silent, within her.

Akane had left her, never to return. After their brief, tearful farewell, the girl had rushed off to save Ranma from the claws of the feline demon that hungered for his soul. And Ranma himself, unwitting of the approaching danger, was on his way to face a dragon older than time so that he could break the blood spell that kept Akane separated from him, a prisoner in the Kami Plane.

Yuki-onna raised her head and took a slow step towards the mirror. Lifting one pale hand, she rested her fingers lightly, longingly, on the cool, smooth surface.

_Are you home, Akane? Have you saved Ranma? Has he saved you?_

The mirror was dark and lifeless, reflecting only herself, her inhumanly white face, haggard with worry. The frost of her winter breath had not touched the silver surface to conjure images of the mortal plane since Akane's departure.

For, sometimes, it was better not to know. And yet...

Nearly a week had passed in the Kami realm. And, though time always moved so slowly in the mortal realm... surely things should be resolved by now... Surely it should be all right to look.

With a mixture of fearful reluctance and anticipation, the Snow Woman leaned forward until her lips almost touched the mirror.

She breathed. The frost spread and swirled. The mortal realm, the mist-shrouded peak of the Mountain of the Ancient One, shimmered into view.

She looked. And knew.

Sometimes, it was better not to know.

-------------------

"Mistress?"

Kazuo stood outside the Snow Woman's lattice door, and held the tea tray as far from himself as possible. Ever since Akane had departed, the Snow Woman, for some inexplicable reason, had taken to having her tea served hot.

It was disconcerting, but he wasn't complaining. Serving her hot tea made her smile, and her smiles were rare things these days.

Still, he would be glad to be rid of the kettle and its steaming contents as soon as possible. The heat made him decidedly uncomfortable. "Mistress? I've brought your afternoon tea."

No answer.

A frown creased the ice sprite's sharp blue-skinned features. Carefully balancing the tray on one hand, he reached out and slid the door open.

It was a testament to his skill as a servant that he didn't drop the tray.

The room was empty, but for the large, jagged shards of shattered mirror, glinting with cold light from where they lay scattered on the floor.

------------------------------------------------

A quiet breeze stirred the stagnant air at the base of the Ancient One's mist-shrouded mountain, just as the deepening night swallowed the last blues of twilight in the sky. The black gloom that engulfed the small clearing at that moment was pierced by distant starlight. The pale, flickering glow of a solitary campfire, tended by a diminutive, wounded and weary old woman, caused shadows to leap and writhe in a chaotic dance amidst the surrounding foliage.

Ryoga noticed none of this. He was staring at the ground. Not because he wanted to, but because the ground happened to be in his immediate line of vision. He had regained consciousness moments earlier, his head throbbing with pain, only to discover that he was trussed up with nylon tent cord, dangling upside-down from a tree branch like a side of meat hanging in a butcher's window.

A side of pork, to be specific.

The little black piglet's eyes stung with tears of anger and humiliation as he realized the helplessness of his situation. Grinding his teeth in fury, Ryoga wriggled in his bonds, ignoring the fact that, should he manage to get loose, the head-first fall to the ground several meters below would not be pleasant. He didn't care. He'd survived worse. And the humiliation of his current position was simply not tolerable.

His head felt tight and hollow with pain, and his already muzzy thoughts were near incoherent in his fury, but one thought managed to penetrate the haze: Pig or not, when he got loose, he was going to wring that old ghoul's neck.

The cords, unfortunately, were stronger than his determination, tied tight and firm around his tiny body, barely leaving him enough room to breathe. Ryoga's strength in his cursed form was virtually nonexistent. His efforts only left him gasping and exhausted, and not a single millimeter closer to freeing himself.

Not to be deterred, he twisted and craned his neck, trying to gnaw on the cords with his sharp teeth... but he soon found to his dismay that no matter how he strained, he couldn't contort his compact piglet body enough to reach his bonds.

As he struggled uselessly, a bit of rationality began to seep through the painful haze in his head. Slowly, the grim reality of his situation penetrated his mind, and his fury dissolved away under an onslaught of achingly familiar depression.

He was fooling himself. What could he possibly hope to accomplish in his ridiculous cursed form? And how could he have been so careless as to let the old ghoul splash him in the first place?

Ryoga sagged in defeat. The sudden cessation of his exertions left him swinging slightly in the air, dangling helplessly from his rope prison.

Trembling, bitter tears welling in his eyes, he silently cursed his porcine fate for the millionth time. He couldn't even save himself, how on earth could he be relied upon to protect the others--?

Ryoga's eyes widened with sudden realization.

Oh no. The others. Where were they? What had Cologne done to them?

He twisted in his bonds again, not to escape, but to try and see...

He discovered Mousse first. The duck's white plumage stood out starkly in the darkness, making him easy to spot. To his dismay, he saw that his Jusenkyo-cursed companion was in much the same situation he was in, bound firmly and hanging upside-down from another tree branch a meter or so away. Mousse's ever present glasses were conspicuously absent.

Ryoga grunted softly, trying to get the duck's attention. Sullen and silent, the duck briefly raised his head to cast a despairing, blind glance in Ryoga's general direction before going limp again.

So. No help there. But at least Mousse seemed to be unhurt.

He spotted Ukyo next. Or rather, he suddenly felt her eyes on him, and he turned to see her staring up at him from where she was bound and gagged at the base of a nearby tree.

Ryoga's relief at seeing her unhurt was short lived as he abruptly felt his heart climb up into his throat.

Ukyo was staring at him. More accurately, Ukyo was _glaring_ at him.

Ryoga swallowed hard. _Uh-oh_.

She knew. She knew about his curse. She had figured it out.

_Well, of course she figured it out_, he thought, his chest growing tight with the sudden wrenching guilt of being exposed in a lie. _She wakes up and sees P-Chan and Mousse hanging unconscious from the tree next to her, and my human self is nowhere to be found. And I'm supposed to expect her to believe that P-Chan just happened to wander all the way to China? And even if she did believe that, why would the old ghoul bother to tie up a piglet?_

Ukyo's eyes were full of anger and frustration. She couldn't speak, gagged as she was, but she didn't need to. Her eyes said everything.

_You jackass_, she seemed to be saying. _Why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have attacked Cologne expecting you to back me up if I had known you were P-Chan._

Ryoga felt himself growing defensive under her accusing gaze, even though he knew deep down that she had a point. He didn't care. _Who are you to judge me? _he wanted to yell at her. _You have no idea what it's like, being cursed like this! Would you go around telling everyone that you turned into a pig? I don't think so! Besides, how was I supposed to know that the old ghoul was going to show up anyway?_

They sat for a moment, glaring at each other in forced silence, neither of them able to give voice to their inner frustrations. Finally, unwilling to face Ukyo's censure any longer, Ryoga clenched his teeth and turned away, scanning the clearing for any sign of Nabiki and Kuno...

They weren't there.

Ryoga's eyes widened. _Not here. Oh no, they might be hurt, they might be..._ He didn't want to think about the other possibility. A thick feeling of dread filled him as he frantically scanned the clearing. He couldn't see any trace of Nabiki or Kuno anywhere in the darkness.

There was only Cologne.

The old woman sat silently in the flickering circle of light cast by the campfire, holding an unconscious lavender cat gently in the crook of her arm.

And she was watching him. Ryoga's eyes met hers over the flickering light of the flames.

Cologne's eyes were expressionless; a flat wall, yielding nothing of what thoughts lay in the mind beneath.

Ryoga's fury reignited at the sight of the Amazon. _Where are Nabiki and Kuno?_ he wanted to scream at her. _Did you hurt them? Kill them? Are you going to kill us? Just because we stand in the way of your stupid old Amazon traditions?_

She simply looked at him with apathy, as if silently noting to herself that, ah yes, the pig had finally regained consciousness, how interesting. Then her gaze dropped, so that she was staring into the crackling fire.

She was waiting for Ranma, Ryoga knew. Waiting to take him, capture him, subdue him by some unknown means, and take him back to the Amazon village.

And, Ryoga realized to his mortification, he was the bait. Ukyo, Shampoo, Mousse... they had all come to this mountain to help Ranma rescue his mystery girl from the Kami Plane, and instead, they had been reduced to silent captives; nothing more than Cologne's bargaining chips in a dangerous, possibly even deadly game, where his best friend was the prize.

Ryoga slumped and stared at the ground again, trying to ignore how his head throbbed painfully with the rush of blood to his head. He clenched his teeth in worry and frustration. Where was Ranma, anyway? Why wasn't he back by now? He'd been on that stupid mountain for hours!

It was the waiting that was the worst. Trapped in this terrible limbo where he was rendered powerless. Unsure of everything, and unable to get any answers from anyone.

Ryoga glanced uneasily at the old ghoul. He didn't even want to think about what Cologne might have done to Nabiki and Kuno. The old ghoul wasn't talking, and she had made damn sure he couldn't speak so he could ask...

Then Ryoga noticed the blood.

At first he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him; that the huge dark stain on the old ghoul's robes was nothing more than a shadow, a trick of the dancing firelight.

No way. Impossible...

He sniffed cautiously, taking momentary, reluctant advantage of his cursed form's excellent sense of smell...

Ryoga swallowed hard. It was blood, all right. Cologne was wounded. Who could have..?

An image flashed in his mind, a memory of Nabiki slowly, methodically loading cartridges into the chamber of her gun...

Ryoga blinked. No _way_. Nabiki? He narrowed his eyes, peering intently at Cologne to make sure...

Ryoga blinked again in amazement. It was true. Nabiki had shot the old ghoul!

Then... maybe she and Kuno had escaped!

A spark of hope flared in Ryoga's chest. Cologne was wounded. And if Nabiki and Kuno had managed to get away, and Nabiki still had her gun, they might be able to--

His thoughts came to a screaming halt as the Memories hit like a ton of bricks.

-------------------

Ukyo dropped her gaze from where Ryoga dangled upside down a from a nearby tree branch, and bit down angrily on the gag in her mouth. She could feel the rough cloth in her mouth rubbing against her tongue and teeth. It tasted faintly of grime, and it was grossing her out.

Frustrated, she strained futilely against her bonds. Stupid old ghoul! It was a good thing she was gagged, or she would have a thing or two to say to that old witch!

And Ryoga... that jerk. That coward! Why did he hide his curse for so long? And pretending to be Ranma's pet of all things? How weird was that? Did Ranma know about Ryoga's curse? Well, of course, he had to! They were both cursed at Jusenkyo, after all. But still, that didn't even make any sense that--

The world suddenly turned itself inside out.

Ukyo emitted a muffled gasp through her gag as the universe seemed to shift around her. Her vision swam, and she closed her eyes as her mind was assaulted with images, feelings, words, actions... all surrounding a girl that she didn't know.

And yet, now, she did.

She knew this girl, remembered her completely in one agonizing, reality-altering moment.

Akane.

The violent, temperamental, un-cute fiancée. The girl who couldn't out-fight her on her best day. The girl who couldn't cook a decent meal to save her life.

The girl that Ranma loved.

Ukyo stared wide-eyed at nothing. Her breath came in ragged gasps through her gag.

_Ranchan..._

-------------------

Cologne closed her eyes and steadied herself as the memories of Akane filled her head. Through her disorientation, she could hear Ukyo's muffled gasp and Ryoga's brief squeal of surprise. Taking a deep, weary breath, ignoring the pain in her wounded shoulder, she stared into the flames and waited for the memories to settle into their proper place in her mind.

Well. The blood spell was broken. Ranma had succeeded again, apparently. Amazing.

Nothing to do now but wait for him to return.

And then... fight him, of course. True, she was handicapped with her wounded shoulder, but Ranma would be exhausted from his journey up the mountain and his battles with the demons. His companions were incapacitated. As for Akane... well, she was a liability. Ranma had a habit of leaving his own defenses wide open when it came to protecting the inept girl, after all.

So. Quickly splash him with the mind-numbing potion. Take him, take Shampoo, and flee, leaving the others behind to do what they would. At that point, it would be too late for them to do anything for Ranma anyway, and once she reached the Amazon village, they could not hope to do anything against her.

Of course, Ukyo might try. Mousse most certainly would, since the fool boy never had much sense. As for Ryoga...

Cologne cast a sidelong glance towards where she had left the cursed boy bound and hanging helplessly from a tree branch at the edge of the clearing. The tiny piglet was staring at the ground, stunned and wide-eyed.

Interesting.

With Akane returned, how hard would the Lost Boy try to save his rival? Especially if she made it clear that there was no cure for the mind-numbing potion, and thus no point in trying to rescue Ranma. Why, even with the mistrust he felt towards her, it would probably take no effort at all to convince him to abandon Ranma completely and stay behind to comfort Akane...

It was certainly something to consider.

As for Shampoo, her misplaced guilt, and her new feelings for Mousse... Nothing a little Formula 110 couldn't handle, to erase that little error and restore her feelings for Ranma.

For the millionth time, she lamented that such a simple technique wouldn't work on the boy. He was too strong-willed; his feelings for Akane too ingrained for such a subtle mind altering tactic to take effect with any permanence. Shampoo was another matter entirely. After all, a few hours of realized love for a simpleton couldn't hope to stand against a full year of passionate desire for Son-in-law.

Then, everything would be fine.

At least, as fine as things could get considering her whole plan, her whole life, her whole world had been quite literally shot to hell.

The feel of Yin Wu Ch'ang Kuei's lifeless touch still lingered on the wrinkled skin of her face; the dank, musty smell of the Ghost's breath still filled her nostrils. Her partially healed, shattered shoulder ached with dull fire.

_When? When did I lose control?_

It was a foolish question, and she knew it. Ah, nothing like coming face to face with Death to stir up the unwanted murmurings of inner conscience. And so the thought, the pricking of her soul that she had ignored for so long, finally struggled through layers of stubbornness and pride to the surface of her mind.

_I never should have allowed Shampoo to cast the blood spell..._

Cologne closed her eyes and released a weary, soul-shuddering sigh.

She had made a grave error. The lives of all involved had been forever altered, none for the better. She could place the blame on Shampoo, but she knew, deep down, that all it would have taken was a single word from her own lips, and none of this would have happened.

There was nothing for it now. Regret came far too late, and even so, the emotion was a useless one. She pushed it from her, feeling cold inside. All the _if only's_ in the world wouldn't change what tradition, duty and Amazon honor demanded of her.

But... when it came down to it, this whole mess was Ranma's own fault. If only he had honored Amazon law and married Shampoo to begin with, it never would have come to this. She wouldn't have been forced to take such drastic measures.

And she had waited so _long_. She had lived in Japan for an entire year, hoping that Ranma would make up his mind about his many fiancees. Oh yes, she had been very patient with him. Far more so than any of the other elders on the council would have been. If it had been Lai Ying in her place, for instance, Ranma would have been subdued by any means necessary her first week in Japan. Anyone else, and there would have been no mercy, no special training... certainly no teaching of secret techniques. And no near-endless grandmotherly patience while the boy's indecisiveness not only kept Shampoo's honor unfulfilled, but kept Cologne herself from her home, her people, and the responsibilities of her council seat.

But her patience and good humor had worn thin. She longed to have the whole thing settled so they could return home, but Ranma had showed so few signs of making up his mind. Worse, when he _did_ show signs, none of them were directed at Shampoo.

The blood spell, in spite of all its inherent dangers, had seemed like the most likely solution to their problem at the time. She wouldn't have allowed Shampoo to cast the spell otherwise.

But now, the blood spell was broken. Ranma would be coming back soon, with Akane.

Cologne sighed and stared into the flames. With a trembling hand that tingled with sharp, stabbing flashes of pain, she gently stroked the velvet-soft fur of the unconscious cat that lay cradled in the crook of her good arm.

Yes.

Nothing to do now but wait.

-------------------

Ukyo's eyes burned with tears. She blinked them back fiercely.

It... wasn't as painful as she thought it would be, remembering Akane.

It was actually something of a relief. She felt giddy and lightheaded with the power of understanding. At last, after everything they'd gone through the past few weeks, everything made sense.

More importantly, if Akane was finally free from the Kami Plane, it could only mean that Ranma had succeeded in breaking the blood spell.

Which meant, of course, that he was safe. He would return. He would come down the mountain, kick Cologne's ancient ass, and set her and the others free. They would find Nabiki and Kuno, safe and sound, and then they could all go home. Finally.

Sure. Simple as that.

What she would do then, she didn't know.

But hey, at least she now knew what part to play. She knew her proper lines.

_So good to have you back, Akane. I hope you and Ranma are happy together._

Yeah. That's the ticket. Be happy for them. Happy happy oh so happy. _Have fun, you two. Oh no, don't mind me. I've only spent my entire life trying to regain a bit of the honor and self-respect that was stolen from me as a child. I've only spent my entire life chasing after a stupid, foolish dream that was never mine to have. I've only given my heart and soul to a man who never could see past his own nose long enough to see how much I..._

A sob began to work its way up from the depths of her insides. Clenching her teeth, she swallowed it back, hard.

Okay, so maybe she was a _little_ bitter.

But it wasn't like she hadn't had time to prepare for this moment. She had known for weeks now that Ranma's heart did not belong to her, and she had come on this quest knowing that this very moment might come.

This was only the final severing blow. Her heartstrings were now well and truly cut, lying in aching tatters around her.

She was alone. Again.

A memory surfaced in her mind. The memory of little Ranma, waving cheerfully from the back of her father's yattai as he left her behind, while she lay face down in the dirt, angrily, tearfully pleading with him to come back, to take her with him...

Back then, he was oblivious of the wreck he'd made of her life; of the years of pain and loneliness she would suffer afterwards because of his unintentional abandonment.

_Well, Ranchan. This is the second time you've left me behind. And, like the first, are you even aware of what you've done to me?_

Could she stand it? Watching Ranma and Akane together, seeing Ranma look at Akane with unfettered love in his eyes?

How would it be? Of course she would be invited to the wedding. Hey, maybe Akane would give a break to her once-rival, and throw the bouquet in her direction.

And maybe someday, somewhere, she'd find a man she could love as much as she loved Ranma...

Yeah, right. And maybe Cologne would untie her and the others, prostrate herself in profuse apologies, and let them go on their merry way.

Ukyo snorted softly. _This bites,_ she thought succinctly. Yes, that pretty much summed up the whole damn day. Her whole damn life.

Still... it wasn't as painful as she thought it would be.

It was really more of a relief, actually.

The tears burned her eyes, but didn't fall.

------------------

Trembling, Ryoga stared at the ground.

_Oh... oh no... _

_Akane..._

Akane. His love, his life, the very hope of his existence.

Somewhere on the Mountain of the Ancient One, Ranma must have managed to break the blood spell, for Akane had returned from the Kami Plane. The Spell of Forgetfulness was shattered.

And Ryoga remembered everything.

The first time he saw her, standing next to Ranma as he challenged the pigtailed boy to a duel. The numb look on her face when his belt blade accidentally severed her long hair. The kiss she placed on his pig snout as she adopted his cursed form as her pet. Her kindness. Her achingly beautiful smile...

His horrible, horrible fear that she would discover his curse and hate him forever...

Her fights with Ranma. Ranma's biting insults that left Akane hurting and Ryoga boiling with protective anger...

Ryoga remembered it all. He felt frozen, shocked beyond pain, beyond tears. His insides were like ice.

He remembered forgetting her.

The past few weeks flew by in his mind. Losing Akane to the blood spell. Searching desperately for a way to get her back...

And then... just forgetting her.

Ranma's words, spoken to him over a week previous, suddenly came back to haunt him.

_I'm gonna get her back, Ryoga. I don't know how, but I'm gonna find a way. And when I do, you'll probably remember her again. But I want you to know right now, once and for all -- Akane is my fiancée. And if you try to interfere again... Well, you're gonna have to fight me. _

And his own unknowing response, spoken in ignorance. _Uh... That's okay, Ranma. She's all yours. _

Ryoga began to shake. He recalled his thoughts from just moments before his memories of Akane had returned. He had been worried about Ranma. About Ranma! Selfish, arrogant, womanizing Ranma, the bane of his existence! His rival, his mortal enemy! His...

His friend.

_NO!_ Ryoga squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head forcefully as his restored memories collided with his experiences of the past few weeks. _Ranma is NOT my friend! I HATE him! I hate him, not only for the hell he's put me through, but for what he's done to Akane! Why, Akane would never even have disappeared if it wasn't for him! Shampoo would have never cast the blood spell to get rid of Akane in the first place if he... if he..._

Realization pierced the all-too familiar haze of his irrational fury.

_...if he didn't love her._

Ryoga went deathly still at the thought. Tears slowly seeped unheeded from his eyes as confusion twisted his feelings. Desire, jealousy, hate, love, friendship... each emotion powerful and raw, seared through his fragile heart until he thought he might die from the pain of it.

And then, with the spark of rationality he had gained from the past weeks, weeks of living with his mind cleared of his usual constant thirst for vengeance... he understood.

For the first time, he understood Ranma. He understood Akane. Most of all... he understood himself.

He... had lost.

Worse, the battle he thought he was fighting, for his honor, for Akane's love, for respect... never even existed except in his own mind.

He saw the whole situation with the clarity of one who has finally washed the layers of mud and filth from his own eyes, only to find himself blinking back tears of pain from the stinging brightness of the sun.

He hated understanding. Hated it, because his new comprehension ultimately changed nothing, and thus brought no solace, no comfort for his terrible, devastating sense of loss.

_Oh, Akane..._

Ryoga's tiny piglet body, bound with cords and hanging upside down in the night-shrouded branches of a tree, trembled with quiet, strangely human-like sobs.

-------------------

As she opened her eyes to see the dazzling star-lit sky through the dark dappled pattern of tree foliage above her, Nabiki realized that she had fainted. On top of that, she had done so without a hell of a lot of dignity.

She didn't care.

_Akane._

Well well. Three cheers for Ranma the wonder boy. He had succeeded yet again. He'd broken the blood spell, and had restored Akane to both the mortal plane and to her memories.

Nabiki groaned.

Not that she wasn't happy about the situation. On the contrary, she was ecstatic. She couldn't remember a single time in her entire life that compared to this incredible moment of palpable relief. Ranma had succeeded. Akane was safe. Alive. And coming home. Nabiki wanted to laugh and cry and shout and jump up and down.

If only she didn't have such a damn headache.

She sat up slowly, raising a hand to her forehead at the throbbing that still lingered inside her skull. The embarrassment she felt over displaying such a weakness in front of Kuno was only lessened by the fact that she knew it wasn't every day that almost her entire life was reorganized in her head in a split second.

Still, it was never too late to display self-control, even if an entire lifetime of forgotten memories had just been crammed into her brain. She steadied herself, looked up to where Kuno sat, still in that cross-legged meditative stance, and forced a wry grin.

"Wow," she said. "What a trip."

Kuno didn't respond. His eyes were lowered, shadowed by the hanging curl of his bangs. Even in the dim starlight, she could see that his fingers were clenched, knuckle-white, around the bokken that lay across his lap.

And he was trembling, Nabiki realized with surprise. And not just a little tremble. A whole all-over-body-on-the-verge- of-epileptic-fit kind of tremble.

She blinked. "Hey. Kuno. You okay?

Kuno didn't raise his eyes. "Twice over," he whispered hoarsely. "I have dishonored myself twice over."

Abrupt understanding settled heavily in Nabiki's gut. Of course. He was remembering Akane, and thus no doubt remembering his conduct towards not only Ranma's girl form, but her as well.

Nabiki couldn't quite suppress a grimace of sympathy. Poor guy. Nothing like coming face to face with yourself immediately after a life-altering reality check, only to discover that you're even more of an idiot than you first realized.

She could see the horror in his face as he remembered. All those glompings. The flowers, the gifts, the bad poetry. Not to mention, of course, all those pictures he had purchased from her in fits of wild-eyed drooling lust...

He was looking like he might be sick; like he wanted to crawl under the nearest rock and die.

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have cared. Under normal circumstances, she would have taken great pleasure from seeing True Blunder of Furinkan High squirm in the misery of realization.

But lately, the word "normal" seemed to have taken an extended vacation from her vocabulary.

"Ohhh," Kuno groaned. He released his death grip on his bokken and clutched at his head with shaking fingers. "What... what infernal darkness has blinded mine eyes that I could not see; that I could perform such ignoble proprieties to the tainting of my soul and the destruction of my honor! And, but for the meddling of that unearthly transcendental influence at the base of that most cursed mountain, summoning the searing light of epiphany, the blinding mists of darkness would enshroud me still!"

Nabiki blinked. On the other hand, Kuno's pontification abilities seemed _quite_ back to normal.

_Is this how he was when he first realized that the pigtailed girl was actually Ranma?_ she wondered. When she had regained consciousness after Cologne's attack, Kuno had been utterly calm and rational -- eerily so, considering his sudden comprehension that Ranma and the pigtailed girl were one and the same.

_This_, on the other hand, was how she had _expected_ him to act after such a discovery. And now, as she watched Kuno's immediate reaction to the restored memories of Akane, she couldn't help but wonder if, while she was out of it, she had missed out on a show of serious soul-wrenching angst.

"Uh... Kuno?"

He raised his head and looked at her. She surreptitiously grit her teeth, trying not to flinch in the face of his haggard, haunted expression. "Dishonored twice over," he whispered. "Akane... all that time, and she never loved me. And the pigtailed..." He strangled on the word, his throat closing off, and he swallowed convulsively. "The whole of my existence is but a sham, a farce," he moaned, "the affections of my inner heart nothing more than the delusions of a madman."

Nabiki looked at him grimly for a long uncomfortable moment. "Um... If you're waiting for me to contradict you," she said at last, "you're talking to the wrong person."

Kuno looked down at his trembling hands and clenched them into fists. "Everyone... everyone knew the truth... except me."

Nabiki wrapped her arms around her knees and said nothing, but her silence was as loud as a resounding acknowledgement.

He lifted his gaze to look her in the eye. "You knew. All this time."

She nodded curtly, refusing to show the discomfort she felt. "And, if you recall, I tried to explain the truth to you on more than one occasion. We all did."

His expression grew bitter. "And yet _you_ selected your words to perpetuate my delusions, not dispel them. You fed upon my madness like a tick bloats itself on the blood of the unwitting beast."

Nabiki's eyes narrowed. "Look, Kuno," she said coldly, "I know you feel like a first class moron right now, but don't go trying to place the blame on me for your behavior. You've just proven to me in the past couple of hours that you _do_ have a brain, so I know that you had it in you to see the truth if you really wanted to."

"So you feel no remorse for preying upon my weakness."

"I didn't say that." Nabiki felt herself flushing, whether from embarrassment or anger, she couldn't tell. "Don't put words in my mouth. I'm not exactly busting with pride over what I did, but there's not a hell of a lot I can do about it now. And don't expect me to come groveling for your forgiveness for selling you pics of your 'true loves' when, if you'd just exercised a few of your brain cells and a bit of self control, I wouldn't have been able to take advantage of you in the first place."

Kuno, who wasn't looking in the least bit like his usual pompous self, shriveled even more under her sharp words. "You... speak the truth." His voice was barely audible.

Nabiki looked at him silently, and felt guilt stab at her insides.

_What am I doing?_ she thought. _Even if it _is_ the truth, I'm only making him feel worse..._

She grit her teeth. It was time to get down to business and seriously swallow some pride. They didn't have time for this nonsense, after all. Akane was back. They needed to go back to the mountain and rejoin the others. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed Kuno's help. She needed him not only lucid, but confident and ready to fight if necessary.

And that meant that she needed to help him through this, not add to his misery.

_Great. So now I get to play Kuno's therapist_.

Nabiki exhaled a long, slow breath as she pushed herself to her feet. She looked down at him sternly. "All right, Kuno, listen up. I... I'm... sorry..." _that you were an idiot_ "...that I took advantage of your..." _sick obsession with Ranma and Akane_ "...weakness..."

Gods, this was difficult. She had to choose her words carefully. Not an easy thing to do, since she was angry and scared -- neither of which were the most nurturing emotions she could be feeling at the moment. Kuno didn't even seem to be responding, but she pressed on. "Yes, it's true that you made... an error in judgment. But all that is in the past. Can't you see?"

Kuno looked up at her, his surprise at her change in attitude flickering through his self-loathing.

Encouraged, she continued. "This is your big chance! You can start over! Now that you're finally aware of the truth, you can take action and regain your honor! You can make everything up to Ranma and Akane by helping them defeat Cologne and getting us all safely back to Japan!"

Kuno wanted to believe her. The desire for redemption was plain in his expression, and yet even that was clouded by doubt. "If only it were that simple," he said.

Nabiki suppressed the urge to grind her teeth. "It _is_ that simple. Who says it has to be difficult? Trust me, Kuno, your reputation can't get any worse. It's only uphill from here."

Kuno groaned and held his head in his hands.

Nabiki mentally berated herself. _Oh, _that_ was good. Try again, girl, and this time, try not to kick him when he's down. _

Sighing, she knelt down again so that she was eye level with him. "Kuno. Everything is going to be fine. I know that it will be difficult, facing everyone again after... after all that's happened. But... look. It won't be as hard as you think. Akane may be a bit violent, but I know her well enough to know that if you show her how you've changed, she'll forgive you. As for Ranma... hell, he's one of the most forgiving guys I know. And believe me, he knows what it's like to experience humiliation, so he'll understand. All you've got to do is show him that your sorry, and he'll probably never mention it again."

Kuno breathed a heavy sigh. "After my atrocious behavior, I do not deserve such kindness."

"Bull. Everybody deserves a second chance. Even you, Kuno." Nabiki was surprised by the sincerity of her words. "You've got to trust me on this."

He snorted, not bothering to raise his head. "Trust _you_? I assure you, Nabiki Tendo, I am seeing things quite clearly at the moment, and the memory of your manipulations whilst I was in the thrall of self-delusion is plain to me. Everything you've ever done, even this transparent ploy to cheer me, is only to further your own self-interests. I do not trust you."

Nabiki's left eye twitched. She stared at him for a long moment, listening to the sound of her heart thumping painfully in her chest.

"I'm going to let that slide," she said at last, "because, after everything that's happened, I know that you know better." She stood, turned away sharply, and walked to the edge of the clearing. "If it's in my 'self-interest' to get you, me, and everyone else out of this hellhole and back home safely, I guess I'm guilty. Akane is back, and that was our agreed signal for us to rejoin the others, remember? I'd go by myself, but it's _really_ dark in that forest, and since you brought me here while I was unconscious, I have no idea where the hell we are."

She turned back to him and favored him with a piercing glare. "In other words," she said tightly, "I need your help. So let me know when you're through feeling sorry for yourself so we can get something accomplished, okay?"

And then she turned away, because at that moment, tears burned her eyes, and there was no way in the world that she was going to give that bastard the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Yes, she had said everything right -- everything that needed to be said to get Kuno thinking in the right direction. She knew without looking that she had finally managed to get Kuno to focus on something besides his misery and mistakes.

But she wasn't supposed to feel so miserable because of it.

She could feel him looking at her; could feel his gaze on her back. _What are you staring at?_ she wanted to snarl. But didn't.

After an infinitely long moment, she heard him get to his feet and come up slowly behind her.

_Oh no, not now, Kuno, go away_, she thought, blinking at the wetness in her eyes.

He was coming. She could almost see it in her mind now; a scene right out of a manga. He rests his hand on her shoulder, murmurs a heartfelt apology, and she turns, eyes shining with tears and says, Oh, it's all right, I know you didn't mean it, before sobbing into his chest as he put his arms around her to comfort...

Nabiki blinked. Gah! Nope. No way in _hell_ was that going to happen.

She snapped around to face him just before he reached her, and sure enough, the shamefaced apology was in his countenance, almost on his lips.

"So," she said, more sharply than she intended. "Are you ready to go now?"

Kuno stared at her uncertainly, but he would not be deterred from his objective. "I'm sorry," he said. "You were trying to help me."

"Yeah, whatever. It worked, obviously. You're feeling better, so grab your bokken and let's go."

"I should not have said--"

"You should have, you did, it's all true, I'm fine with it, so enough already."

Kuno looked at her somberly. "I... do not think that I was seeing quite as clearly as I thought I was."

_No. You're not, Kuno. Otherwise you would see that you are just playing another role._

At first, she'd thought that he had such remarkable control; that his ability to recover from such devastating personal revelation was inhuman.

But he hadn't recovered at all. She could see it in his eyes. The confusion, fear and pain... the self-loathing...

And over that self-loathing, a new facade. A new face to show to the world, to hide the wounded thing he was. No longer was he the warrior of classic romance, courting his true loves, rescuing them from vile demons and sorcerers.

No. Now he was the fallen samurai, noble even in his tragedy, who would regain his honor at all costs.

And this was what she wanted. Because _this_ Kuno was useful. _This_ Kuno would be able to help them all.

Maybe, on some level, Kuno knew that he was play-acting. Maybe he even knew that Nabiki's words had goaded him into his new role.

Maybe, Nabiki realized with a start as she looked into his eyes... he didn't care.

She smiled. "Well, Kuno. It seems to me that _nobody_ ever sees things quite as clearly as they think they do -- including me." She walked over and picked up the bokken from where it lay on the grass, then handed it to him with a gesture that implied that if he said another word on the subject, she'd whack him with it.

He understood, and kept his silence. As he took the bokken in his hands, a bit of his old confidence returned to his countenance, though it was now overshadowed by the heavy burden of his new perspective.

At least he liked his new role. And if he lived it well enough, maybe it would become more than just a role.

"The old woman, Cologne," Kuno said suddenly, and Nabiki paused. "She will not be happy to see us."

Nabiki felt a chill all the way down to her bones that had nothing to do with the coolness of the night. Cologne wouldn't be happy to see _her_ specifically.

She hid her inner thoughts with a light toss of her head. "That's why we'd better pray that Ranma takes care of her before we get there."

"Indeed. Let us be off then."

Nabiki gestured to the surrounding trees. The thick forest was filled with a darkness, swallowing the soft starlight that lit their clearing sanctuary.

"Lead the way, Kuno-chan."

-------------------

"More sake, Kasumi!" Genma waved his empty glass in the air and laughed boisterously.

"Coming, Uncle Saotome."

Soun sobbed, his copious tears drenching the tatami mat. "He did it, Saotome! Ranma saved my little girl!"

"I told you he would, didn't I, Tendo? What else would you expect from _my_ son?"

"I never should have doubted you, Saotome!"

"There there, Tendo. Ah, thank you, Kasumi! Here, Tendo, drink up!"

"Yes, it is indeed a night for celebration! Our families shall be united at last..."

And on and on they went, slapping each other on the back and laughing loudly in between Soun's bursts of weeping. Kasumi knew that in a little while, they would both be thoroughly drunk.

Just as well.

She went into the kitchen, gratefully leaving the two noisy men behind, and fetched the broom and dustpan from their place next to the refrigerator.

Walking down the hall, she went outside to the covered walkway that led to the dojo. The night was cool, peaceful, dark and moonless; the quiet of the evening only broken by the occasional barking dog, and bursts of laughter from the patio on the other side of the house.

She paused outside the dojo entrance for a moment, leaning on her broom, and closed her eyes, feeling the evening air against her face, her eyelids. Then, taking a deep breath, she stepped inside the dojo, turned on the light, and squinted against the brightness.

Her hands trembled.

"Oh... my."

Meticulously, and with great care, she began to sweep up the remains of the fallen, broken altar that lay scattered on the floor.

Her heart ached. She wanted to be glad. She longed for a sense of relief, a sense of peace that her sister was finally safe, no longer a prisoner of the Kami Plane.

As she methodically swept the shattered altar into her dustpan, she couldn't help but wonder. And worry.

Akane had returned. But, with such a terrible omen as this, at what cost?

--------------------

Ranma stared at his body.

His dead body.

He was dead.

He was looking at his own body from the outside.

And he couldn't help but note, with a kind of mind-numbed, detached fascination, how... gross he looked. All pasty and bloody and lifeless...

"This isn't happening," he said. "I can't be dead."

His own words echoed back to him from the misty, night shrouded mountain side.

He blinked. Of course. He _couldn't_ be dead. He had to live, he had to finish the rest of his life. Finish the rest of his life, with Akane. He had fought so hard and suffered so much to get her back, only for _this_ to happen?

No way. Being dead definitely did not fit in with his future plans.

"Hey," he said. Turning to where Yang Wu Ch'ang Kuei stood, gazing at him in silence, he pointed at his body. "Put me back." His voice was tight and strangely calm, in spite of the fact that he felt like totally freaking out. "You gotta put me back in there. In the... my body."

The Ghost of Impermanence stared at him with those unnerving eyes, bulging unnaturally from his strangled, purple face.

Ranma's voice rose slightly as a bit of his inner fear and anger began to seep through his stunned exterior. "I'm serious, man, I _can't_ die! Not right now, at least. So put me back!"

Without a word, Yang Wu Ch'ang Kuei faded away.

"Hey!" Ranma stepped forward in alarm, his hands reaching to where the Chinese emissary of death had stood mere moments before. His grasping fingers touched nothing. "Hey, don't leave! No, dammit, come back here! You gotta put me back!"

But the Kuei was gone. Ranma's hands fell back to his sides as he stared at the empty space in wide-eyed dismay.

He was alone.

He was... dead.

Ranma clenched and unclenched his fists, struggling uselessly to come to grips with the situation. Only one conclusion came immediately to mind.

This _totally_ sucked.

Not knowing what else to do, he turned back to his body and, taking a deep breath, knelt down next to it.

Okay. No need to panic. If the Kuei wouldn't put him back, he'd just do it himself. Nothing to it, right? Just... get back in the body.

Or something.

Tentatively, he stretched out his hand towards the body. Towards... the face. His face. His face, slack and lifeless. His cheeks, still wet with tears and blood. His eyes, wide and blank and...

He paused, swallowing hard as he forcibly pushed back the growing feeling of horror that was totally creeping him out.

He clenched his fists, steadying himself. "Okay," he said, and cleared his throat when his voice cracked a little. "Nothing to it." He reached out...

His fingers passed through the flesh like it wasn't even there. He quickly pulled his hand away, unnerved. He had expected to feel _something._ A tingling, maybe; a tug, or even a coolness, or...

He realized something then, something his mind had been trying to tell him since he first found himself outside his body.

He... couldn't feel anything.

Not quite true. He could feel the calloused flesh of his own fingers and palms as he clenched his fists. He could feel the material of his clothes against his skin...

_What skin?_ he wondered. _All your skin is lying in a heap in front of you..._

As the morbid thought flitted through his mind, Ranma paused. His eyes widened as he was struck by a flash of dread-inspired insight.

He didn't have any skin to feel, and yet he could feel it. How?

His mind had to be filling in the blanks for him, he realized. Like... like an amputee who had lost an arm or a leg, and yet could still feel a "ghost limb" in its place.

Only, in his case, he could still feel his flesh around him, even though his whole body lay before him in a crumpled, lifeless heap on the mountain side.

All of the sensations he was feeling at that moment -- breathing, swallowing, his heart thumping hard in his chest in fear, just mere moments after feeling it slow to a dead standstill...

None of those feelings were real. It was just his mind, filling in the blanks. He knew because, as he paused for the first time to extend his senses beyond himself in the way he had been trained to do since he was a child... he couldn't do it.

He couldn't smell the dank mist, the moist dirt... not even the odor of his own sweat and blood that had filled his head just moments before. He couldn't smell anything.

He couldn't feel the ground beneath his feet. He couldn't feel the coolness of the clear, starry night. He couldn't even feel the constant, familiar pressure of the air against his ghostly skin.

"Oh, gods," he whispered as he looked down at himself, wide eyed and thoroughly unnerved at the discovery. And when he spoke, he couldn't feel the rush of air within his lungs. His voice had come without the force of breath. His breathing was a mere illusion, nothing more than an automated movement imposed upon his spirit by a mind too soon separated from flesh...

A flicker of panic stabbed through him. He... couldn't function like this. He was a martial artist, dammit! He _needed_ to be able to feel the world around him, and this... this...

Ranma shuddered, squeezed his eyes shut, and wrapped his arms around his chest, anxious to feel his own solidness even if it _was_ a ghostly illusion and nothing more.

_Okay_, he thought to himself forcibly. _Come on, Saotome. Get a grip. Lots of other people have died before you, and they must have dealt with it somehow, so you can too. Just take it one step at a time._

The thought was somewhat calming, and restored a semblance of rationality to his scrambled thoughts.

Control. Focus. Think, dammit.

At least he could still see, he realized. And hear. Not all of his senses had been killed with his body, it seemed.

Ranma forced himself to relax, to be calm. He could deal with this. He _would_ deal with this.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

_What the hell are you supposed to do when you're dead?_ he wondered.

Looking down at the body, he found his initial mind-numbing panic and horror slowly ebbing under a wave of other emotions; mostly confusion and melancholy, mixed with faint irritation as rationality gradually reasserted itself in his mind. He grimaced. What in the world was he thinking, trying to get back into his body? After all, if every person who died could just hop right back into their body, the world would be overflowing with people who just wouldn't stay dead.

Still...

His brow furrowed in frustration. He just couldn't sit back and accept this. He couldn't _stay_ defeated. Not for long.

That's right. He was Ranma Saotome, and as far as he was concerned, death was just one more enemy to defeat. Just because nobody else that he knew of had figured out how to come back to life didn't mean he couldn't do it... somehow...

So what if he didn't have a clue as to how he planned to accomplish the impossible?

Well. The first step to defeating an opponent, he knew, was understanding it. Okay. Simple enough. All he had to do was... figure out death.

Taking a deep breath, he looked down at himself. _Himself_, not... the body.

Hm. He looked... well, normal. Not shimmery or transparent or glowing or anything. He was even wearing the black pants and red Chinese shirt he'd... uh, died in, so to speak. He blinked. _What gives?_ he thought, wondering briefly about ghostly clothing. Then he shook his head, immediately abandoning the train of thought as just Too Weird.

_Okay_, he thought, with some measure of annoyance. _Now what?_ He glanced around at his surroundings. Death was really turning out to be different from what he'd expected. Wasn't there supposed to be a river or something? With his ancestors waiting on the other side to greet him? Ryoga had mentioned something to that effect after his near-death experience when fighting Mint and Lime. Huh. Ryoga was probably just pulling his leg or something. All _he_ could see was the mist-shrouded mountain side.

He frowned. There _had_ to be more to death than this; more than just being cut off from the rest of reality, reduced to nothing more than an intangible spirit, a mere ghost, a--

Ranma froze as a memory from earlier that afternoon struck him numb with sudden fear.

--a kuei...

_You'll see, boy._ The voice, cold and raspy, filled with malicious delight, speaking out of the mists. _You are on your noble quest now, but you'll be joining us soon enough, one way or another. You will die, slowly, painfully, as we all did, and your soul will be trapped here, forever, at the base of this cursed mountain..._

Ranma's eyes widened with horrified realization.

_You will join us. And when the next poor fool tries to climb the mountain, it shall be you who will sink your ghostly fingers into mortal flesh; it shall be you who will take pleasure in feeling their life slip away..._

No way. No _way_.

Ranma clenched his teeth. It couldn't be. He was... trapped? Doomed to spend the rest of eternity haunting this mist shrouded, demon-infested mountain? And so what if he was dead! It didn't mean he wasn't _himself_. Ghost or not, he would never kill anybody, never try and drain their life away like the kuei had tried to do to him. He would never become like those disgusting, rotting, hissing, cringing kuei, never in a million years.

But then, if he couldn't figure a way out of this, he just might be stuck here long enough to put that to the test...

_Oh jeeze_. He grimaced. Forever was an awfully long time to be stuck on a stupid mountain, unable to touch anything...

And then another unpleasant thought crossed his mind.

Had the others... the kuei... started out like him? Had they been as determined to be true to themselves, in spite of the hell into which they had been thrust?

How long had they lasted... months, years, centuries... before their humanity slipped away into madness?

Ranma suppressed a shudder. After his experiences with the Shadowcat, he was more than well-acquainted with what it felt like to lose himself. But he had fought too hard for his identity, for his very _sanity_, to let it slip out of his grasp again just because he was dead--

Something twinged -- something feral and feline, lying curled and dormant in the depths of his mind. It stirred slightly in response to his morbid thoughts.

Ranma blinked in surprise.

_What the-- the Nekoken?_

He reached inside himself, probing carefully... and felt it twinge again.

Ranma blinked again in amazement. The Nekoken. It was still there, still inside him. Was his soul so completely melded with the feline spirit that even death couldn't separate their symbiosis?

He frowned, not quite sure how to feel about this discovery. He felt that he should be angry, worried, even a bit... scared. And he _would_ have been scared, if...

...if he hadn't so recently had a taste of what it was like to control all that gloriously terrifying power.

Power.

A humorless smile quirked at the corners of Ranma's lips. So. Perhaps having the beast within wasn't such a bad thing -- at least not at the moment. It was a good thing he had learned, to a basic extent, how to control the Nekoken. He could use that power if he was going to be trapped on this mountain with a bunch of demons.

Curious, Ranma focused on stirring up the Nekoken's power within him. Carefully, slowly, he guided the feline instincts to the surface of his soul--

--and choked out a gasp, crumpling to his knees, as sudden, irrational panic flooded through his mind as he--

_--couldn't _feel_ he couldn't _feel_ he couldn't _feel_ anything, he was clawing at the ground, but his fingers just passed through the dirt and he couldn't feel it, he couldn't feel the air, he couldn't smell or sense and he had to he had to, he was suffocating and he was scared so scared..._

Shaking, gasping for air that he couldn't breathe, Ranma forced the Nekoken back. The feline aspect of his soul slid with willing relief away from the terrifying sensory deprivation of the afterlife and into the depths of his subconscious.

_Oooo-kay..._ Ranma stood shakily, feeling light-headed and slightly disoriented. Clenching his fists just for the comfort of his own seeming-solidness, he swallowed hard. _That was definitely a Bad Idea._ He groaned aloud as he looked down at his shaking hands.

So. His feline side liked the side-effects of being dead even less than he did. He berated himself silently for being so stupid. Of _course_ he couldn't use the Nekoken - not when he was... like this. The Nekoken enhanced his physical senses; helped him feel the world around him in a way that reached beyond the blunt barriers of his humanity. But when he didn't _have_ any physical senses to enhance...

With a groan, Ranma slumped to the ground, frustrated, frightened, and angry enough that he didn't even care that he couldn't feel the earth beneath him. What was he supposed to do now? _Arghhh! Come on, you idiot, think! There's _got_ to be a way out of this!_

Unfortunately, nothing came readily to mind.

--------------------

Akane couldn't believe it.

She was finally home.

Well, not really. The Mountain of the Ancient One, in the middle of the Chinese wilderness, actually. But it was closer to home than she'd been in a long time.

Akane closed her eyes, lifted her tear-streaked face to the sky, and took her first deep breath of mortal realm air for the first time in five years...

And nearly gagged.

"Oh yuck," she gasped. Her eyes flew open, and she looked around quickly. Sure enough, on the ground less then five meters away from her was a large pile of dead demon. The stench was amazing.

Her eyes widened as she looked at the twitching black mass of flesh and ichor. There was almost nothing recognizable left of the creature, but she knew it immediately. The battle scars on her thigh and shoulder throbbed in remembrance.

"Oh..." she whispered, stepping towards it in morbid fascination. "The Shadowcat."

Incredible! Ranma had completely _shredded_ the feline monstrosity!

And, what's more, she could feel the presence of literally hundreds of demons further down the mountain. Her amazement grew. Ranma had gone through _that_ to save her.

Akane felt an elated smile spreading across her face. Wow. Ranma was just the _best!_

She felt her heart pound quickly in anticipation. He was here, somewhere on the mountain. It wouldn't be long, and then she could see him, touch him...

She had waited so long...

And then she saw the blood.

Actually, she had noticed it right from the start, from the moment she had set foot in the mortal realm. It had jumped out to her trained instincts, and she couldn't help but notice it because it was so obviously not demon blood since it just lay there, glistening on the ground, rather than sizzling, bubbling or steaming into the earth the way the Shadowcat's blood did. But she had been hoping so hard that it was just her imagination, that it might just... go away if she ignored the blood long enough...

A great dark pool of it, gleaming wetly in the starlight, right in front of the Shadowcat's remains, and yet separate from it. A lot of blood, she realized.

But it wasn't Ranma's. It couldn't be, because that was a _lot_ of blood. And so what if a trail of it led from the pool over to the base of the dimensional weakness where he must have sat as he spoke to her through the veil, his voice so weak and tired...

_...just a scratch_.

_It's bad, isn't it._

_No. Well... kinda._

Oh no.

And now she could see how the trail of blood went from the pool that had gathered at the base of the dimensional weakness, up the narrow winding trail that wound up out of the mists towards the peak of the mountain...

"Ranma..." she whispered.

And then the whisper became a scream.

--------------------

"Ranmaaaaa..!"

Ranma's head snapped up. He froze, his eyes wide with shock, unable to believe what he had just heard.

Until he heard it again.

"Ranmaaaa! Where are you?" The voice, anxious and tinged with fear, floated up to him from further down the mountain, out of the dark mists.

Slowly, hesitantly, Ranma got to his feet. "A... Akane?" His voice was an incredulous whisper.

"Please, Ranma, answer me!"

It wasn't possible. She couldn't be here, she was still in the Kami Plane. He had failed to save her, after all. He had failed to reach the Ancient One, he had failed to break the blood spell so that she could...

Ranma blinked. Wait a minute... The blood spell?

He suddenly remembered the strange red mist that had seeped out of his fallen body.

The blood spell. It was broken. His death had broken the blood spell... and Akane was back.

Akane was alive. She was safe. She was back. The realizations pulsed in Ranma's stunned mind, even as a tiny, hesitant flicker of joy pierced the gloom of his melancholy...

... and then overwhelmed him completely.

Joy. _She's back. Oh man, she's finally back, I can't believe it, she's back, I'll get to see her again, finally, it seems like forever, oh man, what'll I say to her, she's back, she's coming, she's coming, she's..._

In the back of Ranma's blissfully stunned mind, a little niggling detail that had been lost in the glorious ecstasy of the moment, chose to abruptly penetrate the fog of his emotions.

And Ranma's feelings of joy came to a screeching halt.

Slowly, unwillingly, he turned and looked over his shoulder.

There was his body, lying on the blood-soaked ground; glassy blue eyes staring sightlessly from a pasty, lifeless face.

Slowly, he looked back down into the mists.

"Ranma!" Her voice, anxious, and tinged with fear.

Akane was back. She was coming.

And he was dead.

Ranma blinked.

"Oh crap."

--------------------

End of Part Twenty-One


	23. Heaven and Hell, Part 2

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 22: Heaven and Hell, Part Two

by Krista Perry

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"Ranma!"

Ranma blinked as Akane's voice floated up from the dark mists that writhed and curled beneath the towering, jagged peak of the Mountain of the Ancient One. Her voice pulled at him, filling him with an incredulous joy that pierced him to his core... and a near wild-eyed panic.

Oh _crap!_ How could she be here now? Now, of all times?

Looking over his shoulder, he spared one last glance at his lifeless body, sprawled in the blood-soaked dirt of the narrow mountain path, before he turned to look down the mountain.

Then he _moved_.

He moved without thought or reason towards the mists, running, but not running, for he couldn't feel his feet pound against the ground, couldn't feel the flow of air against his skin, because he had none with which to feel...

"Ranma, please answer me!"

She was coming. And he had to stop her, somehow. Even though he was dead, nothing more than an intangible ghost.

That one thought focused in his mind above all else. He couldn't let her find his body. Because. Because, if she really loved him, like she had said so long ago... because if she felt even an inkling of what he felt for her... because if their situations were reversed and it was _him_ climbing the mountain, and he stumbled upon _her_ body, broken and lifeless on the rocky path...

He didn't even want to think about it.

She was close now. He could hear her crying. Her faint, choking sobs filtered up through the mists... and Ranma stumbled to an abrupt halt. He stopped at the edge of the mists, on a part of the path that he didn't even recognize, and yet he must have been there, for his blood was splattered across the ground in large, dark droplets that had yet to soak into the earth. He stopped moving and just stood there, unconsciously clutching his chest with one hand, staring fearfully into the mists because...

Because he was suddenly, desperately afraid to see her.

What was he thinking? He was dead! She probably wouldn't be able to see him or hear him... and he couldn't even touch her...

He couldn't stop her. She was going to walk right by him and never know he was there, and she would find his body...

And he could hear her weeping. The sound tore at his soul until he couldn't bear it.

"Akane," he cried hoarsely, helplessly. "Don't..."

Don't cry, don't come up here, please don't.

The weeping stopped.

"... Ranma?"

Ranma blinked.

She could hear him?

And then, before his stunned eyes, she emerged from the mists...

------------------

...and she froze, her wet, glistening eyes widening as she saw him.

The blood belonged to someone else. He wasn't hurt. He was safe.

Her hands trembled, fluttered like nervous birds, moving upwards to cover her mouth. She could taste the salt of her tears, feel the wet streaks on the skin of her face, on her fingertips, and suddenly, all she could think about was what a terrible mess she must look like.

And how beautiful he was.

He... was perfect. Just like she remembered him. So young, his braided hair dark and tousled, and he was _still_ wearing that red Chinese shirt of his, and she wanted to laugh, but she didn't because she was afraid that if she did, she would wake up...

And his eyes. He stood there, staring at her, his mouth hanging open slightly, and his gaze was so open and intense, she felt unable to move, unable to speak.

She held her breath as his blue eyes traced slowly over her face, lingering on the hollow of her cheek, pausing to take in the thin white line of a scar that hadn't been there five years earlier. And then, slowly, his gaze went to her hair... her long hair that fell to her waist, torn free from its usual braid in the heat of battle, matted with her own blood... And then her clothes, torn, stained with blood and ichor...

And her heart was beating so swift and loud that she felt for sure that he must hear it, and she was ecstatic and delirious with joy, and yet terrified...

Oh... what did he think of her?

------------------

Ranma felt frozen.

Some distant corner of his mind that wasn't completely numb from shock was aware that his mouth had sagged open in amazement, and that he hadn't blinked in a long time; that he might never blink again because he just couldn't stop staring.

_Akane._

She could see him. Hear him. And she was... was...

He swallowed hard.

_Oh... wow_.

So many questions filled him as he looked at her... and yet, in that moment, he couldn't find his voice to ask a single one.

Her face. Pale, smudged, bloody and tear-streaked, yet radiant in the cool starlight.

Her hair. Long, impossibly long, tangled and wild.

Her body, lean and strong... taller somehow... and yet her tattered, bloodstained clothing couldn't hide the soft, sweet familiar curve of her shape...

His mouth felt suddenly, impossibly dry.

And her eyes. Dark, wet with tears... full of an unfamiliar strength... and yet shadowed by a terrible, raw loneliness; a longing that he felt echoed in his own soul.

The blood spell was broken. But too late. Far too late for her, for him... for them both, Ranma realized, and his eyes began to sting.

_Akane... What's happened to you?_

------------------

Ranma was staring at her, his blue eyes almost luminescent with amazement, and yet he seemed stricken. Akane's breath caught in her throat as she saw a tear escape the corner of his eye and slide, unnoticed, down the pale skin of his cheek to linger, glistening, on the edge of his chin.

He was crying? Ranma never cried, if he could help it -- especially not in front of her. Was she so different? Were the ravages of her time spent in the Kami realm so apparent in her countenance?

She didn't want to think about that now.

What mattered was that Ranma was here with her at last. The passage of time in the Kami realm, each moment there spent wishing for this one moment here, had taken its toll. Her pride was extinguished, her inner soul exposed for Ranma to see.

And he was crying. His familiar defenses were down. He stood before her, more open and vulnerable than she had ever seen him before. And she was so afraid to see him like this, and yet so full of the hope and longing of five long years, and all she wanted in the world was to reach up...

...like she was doing...

...and wipe the wetness from his face, touch his skin, feel his warmth on her hands, her lips...

------------------

...and he saw her reaching out to touch his face, and he wanted it more than anything, and he stood there waiting for the electric feel of her fingertips on his skin...

...when he remembered.

Remembered seeing his hand pass through the lifeless flesh of his fallen body, and not feeling anything...

Horrified panic flickered in Ranma's eyes.

In a split second, he jerked himself away from Akane's outstretched hand -- and found himself staring apprehensively into her disbelieving eyes from a good two meters away.

Akane blinked, stunned.

Her hand slowly fell to her side as her expression crumpled to one of devastation.

Ranma's eyes widened. "Uh... uh, no," he stuttered, "wait, Akane!" He waved his hands frantically as he saw her beautiful eyes go flat; as she closed herself off to him in that old familiar way, like a door slamming shut in his face. "Wait, it ain't what you think!"

_Oh yeah. _That's_ the first thing I wanted to say to her,_ he thought bitterly. But he couldn't think of anything _else_ to say, except maybe, Sorry Akane, but you see, I'm dead... and somehow he got the impression that _that_ wouldn't go over well either.

But, to his surprise, she didn't get angry. Instead, he watched as the hurt in her expression faded completely until she seemed simply... resigned.

Which was infinitely worse than her being angry. _Aw, jeeze..._

She looked at him with those flat eyes that closed off her soul, and forced a smile. "It's... it's okay, Ranma, I understand." Her voice was soft and strangely calm.

Ranma twitched guiltily. "Uh... You do?" he asked uncertainly. Did she know? Had she figured it out?

Akane wiped at her tear-stained face with her fingers in an attempt to compose herself further. She laughed, but it was a hollow sound. "Well, I kind of guessed... I mean, I guess it was silly of me to hope, but..." She took a deep, shaky breath and looked down at her feet.

_Focus,_ she thought as she felt her heart shattering. _Calm. Be calm, dammit! You knew this might happen! You're five years older than him now, why would he want anything to do with an old maid like you? He doesn't even want you _touching_ him! _

_Oh, I'm such a fool. _

Before the Kami plane, she would have slapped him. In her pain and anger at his slight, she would have hit him, maybe even kicked him right off the mountain.

But that was before.

The thought of him flinching away from her outstretched hand threatened to crumble her composure. But no, she couldn't let him see. She loved him. She wanted him to be happy, even if he didn't share her feelings, and she knew he would feel guilty if she showed how much it hurt.

But most of all, she didn't want his pity.

Only the long years of training in the Kami realm and her seemingly endless experience at holding her grief and loneliness at bay allowed her to find her center of calm, so that she could even bear to look up again.

Ranma was staring at her pensively. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she called up the speech she'd prepared so long ago, just in case, for this very circumstance. It came out sounding rushed, stiff, and not nearly as sincere as she wanted it to be.

"I... appreciate you saving me, Ranma. And I just want you to know that I want you to be happy, so whomever you eventually choose, I'll... support you, but... but I hope that we can be friends at least..."

Ranma blinked. That wasn't at _all_ what he was expecting her to say. "Huh?"

"Friends," she said again, trying not to get upset even as she realized that in her flustered haste, she'd forgotten half her speech. "I want us to be friends."

"Uh... okay." Ranma wondered if it was possible for him to be more confused. She didn't think they were friends? Then he blinked as the meaning of her words filtered through his bafflement. "Hey, wait a minute," he said, a familiar suspicion forming in his mind. "What do you mean, 'whoever I choose?'"

Akane looked at him, aghast. He wanted her to spell it out? Wasn't it enough that she was giving him his freedom? She inhaled shakily. "_You_ know," she said with remarkable calm, considering that she wanted to pound him for his insensitivity. "Choose. Whichever... fiancée." He looked at her blankly. "The one you want to marry." Her lips thinned as she tried to hold back the tears that threatened to shatter her composed facade. "Instead of me."

Incredulous comprehension dawned in Ranma's eyes. "What? You mean, you thought..?"

And then he stopped as he saw the look on her face. It was true -- she thought he'd chosen someone else.

What the hell? How on earth could she think such a thing after everything he'd been through for her?! Argh! The stupid tomboy! Why did she always think the worst of him?

But then, he realized... how could she know? She hadn't been there, she hadn't seen everything he'd gone through in her absence. She didn't know that... he loved her.

He'd never told her, after all.

"Jeeze, Akane," he said at last. His voice was soft, hoarse and tinged with anger, though the emotion was directed at himself. "I didn't choose nobody else. Why the hell would I do something like that?"

She looked at him, surprised. "Because," she said, and as she spoke, her wounded feelings seeped through her the crumbling remains of her carefully constructed mask of composure. "You made it perfectly clear that you don't want anything to do with an old maid like me!"

"Old maid?" Ranma shook his head in exasperation. Akane looked anything but old. "_Now_ what are you talking about?"

"Look at me, Ranma," she said, gesturing to herself sharply with both hands. "Can't you see?"

"Well, yeah, you look... uh... different." That was the wrong thing to say, because she flinched. "No! I mean, you... I mean, your hair and everything... I guess the Kami Plane made your hair grow or something?" He wanted to say that she looked beautiful, wild and exotic, that just the sight of her was driving him out of his mind with desire, but his courage was rapidly failing him as he saw her eyes shimmer with tears. "Uh... is that bad?" he asked lamely.

"Idiot!" Akane shouted. "I'm five years older than you now! I was in the Kami Plane for five years. Five years!"

Ranma looked at her, stunned. Shocked beyond words.

She stood with her fists clenched at her sides. "I'm older than you," she whispered hoarsely. "I'm older than all my friends. I'm even older than Kasumi -- by two years! I spent the last five years of my life wandering around the Kami Plane trying to find a way home." And trying to save you, she didn't say, because she had done so much, suffered so much for his sake, and now, with her words, she was hurting him far worse than the Shadowcat ever did. She saw it in his face, his eyes. The realization, the welling horror, the guilt and misery as he understood for the first time...

And then she turned away from him abruptly, because she knew she was going to cry.

Nothing was turning out the way she thought it would be; the way she _hoped_ it would be. And now, she'd gone and done exactly what she didn't want to do, and that was to make Ranma feel sorry for her.

"But..." Ranma's voice was quiet with disbelief. "That can't be..." Five years. There was no way that he could have allowed Akane to be stranded in the Kami Plane for that long, all by herself. "You... you were only gone for a month."

Akane sniffed, holding back a sob. "Time moves faster in the Kami Plane than it does here," she said softly.

Ranma stared at her, as she stood with her back to him. He opened his mouth to say something, but there were no words, and even if there were, they would probably come out wrong.

Five years. Not a month, but _five years_. Everything clicked into place for him as he looked at her. Her hair, her face... the thin, pale scar on her check that had confused him... Who had done that to her? How old was that scar? How many more did she have that he couldn't see?

And those shadows he saw within her eyes; a mingling of light and darkness, of strength and sorrow that he'd never seen within her before...

She wasn't the same girl who was torn from his life nearly a month ago, even more so than he first realized. She was a woman.

An older woman.

Five years. Five years was an eternity. Five years ago, he had been a twelve year-old boy. Five years was a sizable chunk of his own lifetime.

Five years. It was incomprehensible to him.

"Akane." He wanted say something, do something, _anything_. "I... I'm sorry..."

She stiffened.

Ranma winced. Again, somehow, the words were wrong. He took a deep breath and tried again.

"I... Look, I don't care how old you are, okay? No matter what age... it doesn't matter to me. You're still Akane." _My_ Akane, he thought, but fear stuck the words in his throat.

Akane shivered. His tone of voice was so gentle, so sincere, and it lit bright spark of warmth within her heart. She closed her eyes and felt the tears slide down her cheeks at the cruel kindness. She wanted to run to him, wrap her arms around his chest and weep out all her misery...

But she didn't. Because even as she lifted her head and turned to look at him, she saw how he still held himself carefully apart from her, as if fearful of any contact.

The spark of warmth dimmed. "It's okay," she said tightly, "you don't have to lie to make me feel better."

Ranma's eyes widened. "Wha--?" He couldn't believe it. Here he was, trying so hard, and nothing was coming out right! Why did she always have to twist his words around to mean something different? "I'm not lying! It's the truth!"

"Really?" Her voice was sharper than she intended. "Then why don't you even want to touch me? Am I that abhorrent to you?"

Ranma trembled in barely suppressed aggravation. Five years, and she hadn't changed a bit! "No, stupid! I _do_ want to touch you!" Oh man, more than anything...

"Well then why don't you, you jerk?!" She was shouting, unable to hide the desperation, the desire in her voice.

"I can't!"

"Why not?!"

"Because I'm DEAD!"

The words echoed loudly off the mountainside.

Akane paled.

Ranma's eyes went wide. _Oh man, that was stupid,_ he thought, as he desperately tried to figure out how to retract his words. "Er... that is... I mean..."

Akane blinked.

Dead?

That word... it didn't apply to this situation at all. It _couldn't_ apply to Ranma. She _knew_ what dead was. Her mother was dead, after all.

Dead was gone. Dead was buried, cremated, ashes scattered to the winds. Dead was mourning over a cold stone monument in a cemetery. Dead was grief, fear, anger, loneliness. Dead was never seeing someone ever again.

Dead _certainly_ wasn't talking face to face, having a heated argument.

Then again, she thought, she'd experienced stranger things...

Ranma... dead.

Her eyes were dry as she looked at him; as she searched his face for any sign that he might be attempting some kind of deception, even though she already knew that Ranma would never joke about something like this.

And she, just like old times, had deliberately ignored all the signs of the truth.

Of course he was dead, she realized numbly. He had been seriously wounded by the Shadowcat, after all. And she remembered how weak he had sounded when she heard his voice through the dimensional veil. She remembered the cold grasping fingers of terrifying premonition that had gripped her by the throat as she heard the depth of his pain through the layers of space and time...

And, at the moment, Ranma looked... perfect. Too perfect. He bore no signs that he had, only minutes before, fought a desperate battle with the demon that was powerful enough to kill her tengu sensei. Why, Ranma didn't even look like he had a scratch on him.

He was looking at her, his blue eyes wide and apprehensive as he stood, frozen, waiting for her reaction.

And, as she gazed into his face in that single weird moment of clarity, she saw everything that she had missed in the blindness of her fears and self-doubts.

She saw Ranma. Ranma, who, in spite of all their arguments, misunderstandings and misadventures, had been her friend all along. Ranma, who had wept over a severed lock of her hair when he thought he might never see her again. Ranma, who _hadn't_ chosen someone else.

Ranma, who had died trying to save her.

Oh, Akane gasped silently. And her heart shivered within her at the realization.

She stood silently, gazing into Ranma's face, her emotions a torrent of confusion.

_I should be sad_, she thought. _I should be grief-stricken. But I'm not. I mean, how can I be upset over Ranma being dead when he's standing right in front of me? When I hear it from his own lips?_

Why, the whole situation was just surreal. Almost ludicrous.

"You're... dead," she said in a small voice.

Ranma was looking at her with barely-veiled apprehension, as if expecting her to spontaneously combust. Or worse -- cry. "Uh... yeah," he said. "Kinda."

Akane blinked. "I see," she said slowly. "So... you're 'kinda' dead. Just like you were 'kinda' wounded by the Shadowcat."

Ranma swallowed. That sounded vaguely like a reproach. Still, she certainly was taking it a hell of a lot better than he thought she would. It was freaking him out. His hand slipped behind his head, and he laughed nervously, not quite sure how to handle Akane's disturbing calm. "Uh... something like that."

Akane looked down at the ground. The ground that was stained with his blood. And then she looked at his feet. His feet, which, now that she looked closely, didn't... quite... touch the ground.

When she raised her head, her eyes were unreadable; calm and dark, like the sea before the fury of a morning storm.

Ranma felt a quiet dread fill him. But before he could utter another word, before he could even blink, she closed the gap between them in three swift steps, reached up...

...and touched his face.

He froze and gasped in shock as her living hand passed through him.

He _felt_ it. The first real thing he'd felt since he'd found himself outside of his body. A flickering; a faint bit of warmth that trembled on his cheek as her fingers passed through the illusion of his skin.

Akane slowly traced the line of his cheek with her index finger... and yet she felt nothing. Nothing, except... just a bit of air that was cooler than the night. And now her eyes grew wet again, as her expression softened.

"Oh, Ranma," she breathed.

Ranma stared at her. Her voice, the warmth in her eyes, and the whispering, barely-felt pulse of her living presence against his face melted away the last traces of his apprehension, filling him with an unfamiliar thrill that left him tingling.

Slowly, with wide-eyed wonder, he reached out tentatively... and brushed his ghostly fingers softly against her face.

Akane tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and shivered.

He drew back hastily. "Sorry," he said. "I... sorry..."

"Ranma." Akane opened her eyes and smiled. "Never," she whispered, "be sorry for wanting to touch me... okay?"

Ranma swallowed hard. "O-okay," he said, his voice cracking boyishly.

Akane blinked at him in surprise... and then giggled.

"H-hey!" Ranma was suddenly, deeply grateful that he didn't possess flesh and blood at that moment, because otherwise he knew his face would be as red as his shirt. He mentally kicked himself as he realized that he had sounded _way_ too eager. "_You're_ the one who said it was okay!"

Akane almost choked on another laugh as it emerged from her throat. She tried to hold it in, because of the embarrassed blush she could see spreading across Ranma's face, but that only made it harder not to laugh. She pursed her lips together tightly to hold it in, but it was a futile effort, like trying to stop up a pressure cooker. The laughter was welling up inside her from a place she'd though long dead, and she couldn't hold it in any longer.

Akane exploded in uncontrollable giggles.

"What?!" Ranma looked at her, torn between embarrassment and a blossoming irritation as he wondered what bizarre humor she could find in such a situation. And yet... to see her laugh... he found himself smiling in spite of himself. Struggling in vain to smother the stupid grin he could feel creeping across his face, he desperately mustered up the remains of his dignity. "Come on, what's so funny?"

Akane struggled to gain control of herself, wiping the tears from her eyes with one hand, and smiled up at him. "Nothing," she said, still half-giggling. "You. I love you."

Her levity evaporated as the words escaped, and her laughter died in her throat. It had slipped out; she hadn't meant to say it right now, like this, under these strange, frightening circumstances but she had felt it for so long, undenied for five years, that it had come to her naturally. And Ranma...

He was staring at her, frozen, looking at her with something akin to disbelief... and fear.

But this time... perhaps for the first time... she understood what he was afraid of.

Akane looked into his eyes. There was no denying it now. She didn't want to. Reaching out with one hand, she caressed his cheek, aching to feel something other than a whisper of chilled air.

Ranma trembled visibly under her hand, and his eyes grew wet.

Akane swallowed against the stinging in her throat. Again, just like the first time she'd told him, he was right before her... and yet out of reach. "I love you, Ranma."

Ranma closed his eyes. Funny how, even dead, he could feel the sting of tears. Though the physical world was beyond his reach, he could feel everything within himself, as if he were living. The burning ache in his throat, the pounding of his heart. But it was nothing more than an illusion, he knew.

"Akane... I..." His voice was hoarse, and he clenched his fists. He wanted to tell her. But how could he, when doing so might hurt her even more in the long run? It wasn't that he had given up. But unless he could figure a way out of this mess...

"Akane... I'm _dead_. I wanted to rescue you, but I... I screwed up... and now I can't even _touch_ you..."

Akane's vision blurred and stung, and she could once again feel the tears on her face. "I don't care," she said stubbornly.

Ranma opened his eyes and stared at her in disbelief. "What?" he exclaimed. "Akane, that's just..." He caught himself before he said _stupid_. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "I mean... come on, don't you think that me being dead just _might_ put a damper on any... um, you know..." He was blushing again. "Long-term... plans and... stuff?"

"Don't say that!" Akane wanted to reach out and shake him by his shoulders. "I can see you! I can talk to you! That's more than I've had in five years, and it has to mean _something!_"

Ranma didn't know what to say.

"It's just not fair," she whispered, lowering her eyes. "I refuse to believe that, after all we've been through, it ends like... "

She trailed off abruptly, her voice dying in her throat.

Ranma blinked as he saw her face slowly drain of color. "A... Akane?"

"Ranma," she whispered, looking up into his face with wide, horrified eyes. "You're _bleeding_..."

That was the last thing he was expecting her to say. "Wha--?" He looked down at himself... and sure enough. A dark stain was slowly seeping through the front of his shirt. Reaching down, he pressed his hand to his stomach. It came away wet, sticky, and stained scarlet. He stared at it in disbelief.

Akane felt her initial horror give way to a dull, familiar panic. The same kind of panic she had felt so many times in the Kami Plane, whenever she was confronted with something strange and supernatural. Ranma's wound had opened up before her very eyes. He was bleeding, and even as he stood there, stunned at the sight of his impossible, ghostly blood, her first irrational thought was that she needed to get him to a doctor. _Help, someone, my dead fiance is bleeding!_ She shook her head and forced herself to think rationally. "What's happening?"

"I... I don't know," Ranma said hoarsely. He could feel the blood now, flowing freely from a wound that shouldn't be there. He was a ghost! _Ghosts don't bleed... do they?_

And then he gasped as sharp, stabbing pain suddenly lanced through his middle, and he clutched his stomach, even as a terrifying feeling of déjà vu washed over him.

Akane was instantly by his side, her face pale and fearful. And through his pain, he could feel the whispering warm flicker of her hands through his face, his shoulders, his back as she reached out, trying desperately to touch him, to help him somehow. "Ranma! Please, tell me, what's going on!"

He shook his head, trying to focus over the pain. "I don't--"

And then he remembered the kuei. The trapped spirits of those who had died grisly deaths on this mountain, whose only resemblance to their former humanity was what they retained from their rotting corpses.

"Oh no," he gasped. The understanding shocked him out of most of his pain. And then his eyes widened as he realized...

"What?" Akane asked, her face blanking as she tried to prepare herself for what would undoubtedly be another devastating blow to their current situation, considering the look on Ranma's face. "You know what's going on, don't you?" It came out almost as an accusation.

He looked up at her, wincing. "It's... uh... kinda complicated." How was he supposed to explain _this_ to her?

But then, it seemed he didn't even need to, for at that moment, horrified understanding lit Akane's features as she looked again at the blood seeping through his fingers where he clutched his stomach. "Is that where the Shadowcat..." She reached out, then drew back, her fingers going up to press against her lips in a gesture of helplessness. "Oh, Ranma, does it hurt?"

Ranma shook his head quickly. "Naw, it's okay. It... doesn't hurt all that much," he said, straightening with a grimace that belied his words. Suddenly, he could taste blood in his mouth, and he coughed involuntarily, causing Akane to gasp in distress. "At least," he added hastily, "not like before when I was really... I mean, it just kind of surprised me, I guess. Really, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Akane swallowed hard as she saw a thin line of blood trickle from the corner of his mouth.

Ranma saw where she was looking and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. When he saw the scarlet streak it left, he sighed heavily. This, above all else confirmed his suspicions. And if he was right... "Look, Akane, there's something you should know."

Akane didn't look even the least bit surprised, though the worry in her eyes increased several notches. "What is it?" she asked.

Ranma looked down at his bloodstained hands and instinctively, if futilely, wiped them on his bloody pant legs. "Well, there are a bunch of ghosts on this mountain called kuei..."

"Kuei?" Akane interrupted, the unfamiliar word filling her with dread.

"Yeah, it's a Chinese word that means... um... vengeful spirits. They're... kind of trapped here on the mountain... forever." Ranma looked at her meaningfully, hoping that she would figure the rest out on her own so he wouldn't have to say it. Because the more he thought about it, the more it scared the hell out of him...

"So... what does that have to do with you bleeding all of a sudden?" Akane asked slowly.

Ranma groaned inwardly. Figured, that she'd pick this particular moment to be dense. "The kuei are kind of... well, they look all dead and gross, like..." He gestured down at himself. "Um... and they act all pissed off at the living, probably because they've been stuck here for hundreds of years or something..." He sighed again. _Just tell her, idiot._ "Okay. Akane... Kuei are the ghosts of people who have been killed on this mountain," he said in a rush. "Like me," he added as an afterthought.

Akane blinked. "So you... you..." She couldn't finish the thought. Just when she thought things couldn't get any worse...

"Yeah," Ranma said quietly. "I think I'm turning into a kuei."

Akane looked at him silently for a long moment. "I see," she said at last.

Ranma blinked. "Um... okay... I'm turning into some life-devouring vengeful spirit, and all you have to say is 'I see?'"

"What do you want me to say?" she asked quietly, though there was an undercurrent of frustration in her voice. "Honestly, after everything that's happened in the last ten minutes, this is just one more thing. Just one more straw for the camel's back, and I'm doing my best not to break, okay?" She realized that she was starting to raise her voice, so she made a conscious effort to calm herself. "Anyway, you'll have to excuse me if I don't start weeping and wailing over one more discovered disaster." She looked at him with large, wet eyes and bit her lip, trying not to show the alarm she felt as she watched Ranma's ghostly skin slowly take on a dead, grayish hue.

Ranma felt himself melt inside at the sight of her expression, so beautiful and strong in its determination. "I'm sorry, Akane," he said sincerely. "I... I ain't trying to make you feel bad. I'm just... kinda freaked out over all of this."

Akane smiled weakly. "It's okay, I understand." She took a deep breath. "The question is, what do we do now?"

"Well," Ranma said slowly. "I was thinking that maybe the Ancient One might be able to help us." _Or at least help you get off this mountain,_ he thought.

Akane's eyes widened. "The Ancient One," she said. "That's right." She felt suddenly breathless, as something else occurred to her. "Ranma, he might even be able to bring you back to life!"

Ranma raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. Deep down he was hoping the same thing, but he didn't dare get his hopes up. "So," he said wryly, "you think this all-powerful dragon's got a cure for death?"

_If he doesn't, he'd better make one_, Akane was going to say--

-- but then she felt it. A prickling of her battle sense. A deep strangling sensation in her chest, that took her completely by surprise. And before she could even stop to think about it, she was turning towards the mists and unsheathing her sword, just in time to see a demon, huge and flame-skinned, bearing down on her with foot-long black claws extended, its gaping maw filled with hundreds of venom-oozing fangs...

And all Ranma could think of in that split-second of shock was that he'd never even felt it coming...

"Akane!" he screamed, as he moved to grab her and leap with her to safety, but his hands passed right through her, and she wasn't even looking at him now, she was turning to face the demon, and it was going to kill her right before his eyes and he couldn't do a thing to stop it except scream "Akane, look-"

Akane's sword flashed, and the demon's head flew from its shoulders to land amidst the rocks several meters away.

"--out..." Ranma finished weakly, as the rest of the demon collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

Akane was shaking, cursing herself. She had been so overwhelmed with the events of the past few minutes that she hadn't even been paying attention to her surroundings. Her defenses had been virtually nonexistent as she focused completely on Ranma, and so the demon had been able to take her almost unawares...

_Damn, that was a close one_, she thought.

"Akane..." Ranma's voice, from behind her, was incredulous.

Pulling a cloth from her belt, Akane wiped the ichor from her blade as she turned to face him.

The completely flummoxed look on Ranma's face was priceless.

_I'm going to remember that look forever_, she thought with an almost guilty elation. _I guess I'm not the clumsy tomboy anymore, eh Ranma?_

Ranma stared at her, unblinking. Then he slowly shook his head, as if in denial of what he had just witnessed. "You... You just..."

"Killed a demon?" she supplied helpfully.

"How..." He stopped himself, his eyes still wide with amazement. "No, I saw how... But... when..."

"Well, the Kami Plane is full of demons," Akane explained with a shrug. "I had to learn how to defend myself."

"Full of demons," Ranma repeated numbly.

"Yes."

Ranma closed his eyes. "So... you've been... fighting demons..."

"Um, yes," she said, beginning to feel strangely uncomfortable with Ranma's reaction.

"For five years."

"Well, actually, for only a little over four years now... I'm really quite good at it," she added.

"Good at it..." he groaned.

Akane blinked, feeling the faint stirrings of annoyance as Ranma continued to parrot her. "Ranma, are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm just fine," he replied with barely restrained irritation. He opened his eyes, but yet couldn't seem to meet her gaze, looking instead at the twitching body of the huge, decapitated monster. "I mean, you disappear for a month, only I find out it's actually been five years, and that you had to spend it fighting for your life in a dimension full of blood-thirsty demons. Hell, I think that's just great. But hey, at least now you can kick demon ass. Which is good because, in my condition, it's not like I could do anything to protect you now anyway."

The last was said with a bitterness that he couldn't hide, and he grit his teeth, feeling angry at himself for being so petty. But he couldn't help it! Here he was, useless and dead -- not to mention that he was starting to look all gross like his corpse -- while Akane had spent her time in the Kami Plane transforming into this radiant, beautiful warrior goddess. Her lightning-quick speed and grace, as she spun in one fluid motion to lop off the demon's head, kept playing through his mind. A part of him was impressed and awed beyond words. While another part of him was feeling childishly resentful. _He_ wanted to be the one to protect her. Which was stupid, he knew, because if Akane _hadn't_ been able to kill the demon, she'd be dead...

Akane looked at him in shock. "Is _that_ what's bothering you? That you think I don't need you to protect me anymore?" When he didn't respond, Akane suppressed the urge to bop him on the head and knock some sense into him, knowing it wouldn't do any good. "Ranma, don't be stupid! Yes, I can fight, but that doesn't matter! That doesn't mean that I don't need--"

She broke off as her battle senses, still sharp from the surprise attack, pricked again. As she whirled, her sword blazing with bright blue ki, she failed to notice Ranma's jaw sag at the sight.

_She... she's focused her battle aura around the blade! Man, that takes some _serious_ ki control..._ The expression on his face warred between one of amazement and disbelief. _The hell... Since when can _Akane_ control ki?_

Akane was oblivious to Ranma's grudging respect. "Great, we've got more company," she grit through clenched teeth as her eyes scanned the surrounding mists. "Damn. The demons... They were all below us before, on the lower slopes, but while we've been talking, a few have circled us. There are two..." Her eyes narrowed. "No, three... that are on the trail above us now."

At that announcement, Ranma shoved his tumultuous feelings aside. Akane was right, anyway; it was a stupid thing to be upset over, especially since he couldn't change the past. Time to deal with the here and now. "Above us?" he asked, not liking the sound of that. "Are you sure? How can you tell?"

"I can feel them," she said simply, still not looking at him. "Can't you?"

"Akane," he snapped in exasperation, "I haven't been able to feel a damn thing since I found myself standing outside my body."

She glanced at him in surprise. "Oh," she said sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn't know."

He sighed, waving a hand in a gesture of impatience. "It's fine, let's just get out of here, okay? The Ancient One is at the top of the mountain, right up this path." He forced a small, wry grin. "You're the demon-hunter, apparently, and since you can tell where they are, I guess you should lead the way, neh?"

Akane's surprise melted into a radiant smile that made him feel all quivery inside, and he found his own smile turning sincere. His resentment began to flow away under a sudden deluge of warm and fuzzy thoughts -- not all of which were completely... er... wholesome.

"Okay," Akane agreed, wondering why Ranma was suddenly blushing again.

And so, together, ghost and human, they ran up the mountain. Ranma wanted to urge Akane to be cautious, since the craggy mountainside was strewn with huge boulders and deep crevasses that were perfect to conceal a demon lying in wait for an attack, but then he realized that if she was perceptive enough to sense them down to their very number, it would probably be difficult to take her by surprise now that she was on her guard.

"Be ready," Akane said in a low voice as they approached a sharp bend in the trail. "It's waiting..."

The demon, a wispy-thin stick-like creature with at least a dozen spiny limbs, lashed out at Akane's head as she rounded the bend, but she dodged smoothly, and with several quick strikes, sent the demon clattering to the stony ground in a prickly heap.

"..." commented Ranma. But he didn't have time to collect his thoughts to say something more substantial, because Akane was already running again.

And, as he followed behind, he couldn't help but notice how her long hair flowed out behind her, how she moved with liquid grace, and how her lithe, slender form almost radiated hidden strength...

_Maybe... this ain't so bad_, he thought appreciatively.

And then she turned sharply to face him, and he started guiltily, wondering with panic if mind-reading was another talent she'd picked up in the Kami Plane...

"Duck!" she shouted, lunging at him.

Without even blinking, he moved instinctively, bending completely backwards just in time to see the flash of Akane's blazing sword pass within an inch of his nose. Tilting his head back further, he had a perfect upside-down view of the blade slicing cleanly through the blackened flesh of a pustule-covered demon that had come up behind him. Sickly black and yellow ichor splashed liberally as the demon slid in two, and would have drenched Ranma, had he been tangible. As it was, he flinched as the thick demon blood just fell right through his ghostly face to splatter against the stone ground. "Augh, yuck!" he yelled.

Akane bit her lip. "Sorry about the short notice."

But Ranma didn't care about that. "Aw, man," he groused, standing upright and looking at the mess behind him. "That was _disgusting_."

Akane raised an eyebrow at him, while flicking her katana clean with a practiced snap of her wrist. "Is that all? Well, at least you didn't get any on you."

"You wouldn't say that if it had gone through _your_ face," he responded with a grimace.

Akane considered that, wrinkling her nose. "Eww... Sorry."

"Forget it," he said, sighing. "No harm done. Come on, we're almost there, let's go."

"Not yet," she said, turning just as another demon emerged from behind a rock.

Though the demon was small, shadowy and quick, it didn't even have time to snarl before her sword was buried in its throat to the hilt. The creature then slid lifelessly off her blade to collapse in a heap, at which point she cut off its head with a single stroke.

"There." Akane brushed the hair from her eyes, wiped her sword clean, and slid it back into its sheath. "I think that's the last of them... What's wrong?" she asked, suddenly noticing that Ranma was staring at the dead demon. "Um... If you're wondering, I cut off its head so that it will take longer for it to come back to life..."

Ranma shook his head. "That's not it," he said hastily. "I mean..." He looked at her, and smiled a little. "Wow, Akane. That was... kinda cool."

Akane felt her face grow warm at the unexpected compliment. "You mean it?"

"Hell yeah," Ranma said, and his own face flushed as he put one hand behind his head. But he was determined that, for once, this would come out right. "You... you kicked ass, Akane. None of those demons even stood a chance."

Akane practically glowed -- the sight of which forced Ranma to swallow against a suddenly-dry throat -- and she lowered her eyes shyly, feeling suddenly like a flustered schoolgirl. "Thanks, Ranma."

They stood facing each other in silence for a long moment.

"Um..." said Ranma, clearing his throat.

"The Ancient One," Akane responded in a rush.

"Yeah," Ranma agreed hastily. "That's right."

And, only pausing briefly to look each other in the eye, they turned with perfect synchronicity and resumed their speedy flight up the mountain.

As she ran, Akane had to swallow hard against the pounding of her heart in her chest. _Wow,_ she thought, her inner voice a squeal of delight. _Ranma thinks I kick ass!_

But her elation only lasted a moment, as she suddenly noticed something about the steep, winding stone path they were following...

Blood. Still wet. Sprinkled here and there in places. In other places, great pooling splashes trickled into the cracks of the stony ground, where dragging, scarlet footprints hadn't smeared it across the rock face.

Suddenly, even as she rounded the corner, she knew what she was about to see.

And there it was. Almost as if summoned by her realization. Her heart stopped as she stumbled to an abrupt halt.

Ranma saw it at the same moment, and froze.

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting back and forth between Akane... and his corpse.

Akane's face was white; carefully tight and expressionless. But her eyes were wide, shimmering with fresh horror and realization...

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ he thought to himself angrily. Even with everything that had just happened, how could he have forgotten about his body? He didn't want her to see this. But she was already stepping forward.

"Akane..." He reached out to stop her, but his hand passed uselessly through her shoulder. She was walking towards the body, staring; almost mesmerized.

Akane felt her insides clench at the sight of Ranma's body, lying in a pool of his own blood. She choked back a gasp, holding it tight in her throat, knowing that any distress she showed would only upset him. She had to pretend that it didn't matter, seeing him like this. The body was only an empty shell, after all. The _real_ Ranma was standing behind her, even if he was now bereft of flesh and blood...

And then she saw his face.

Her legs suddenly felt like they were full of water, and she sagged to her knees on the blood-soaked ground, shaking, unable to tear her eyes away.

Five years in the Kami Plane, and all she ever wanted to do was see Ranma again, and touch him.

The body was the mirror image of the Ranma standing behind her. And yet, solid. Real. His beautiful blue eyes were wide and blank, staring lifelessly...

Almost without thinking, she reached out and gently slid the eyelids down over that vacant stare.

And then her trembling fingers strayed down to brush his cheek. His pale skin was cold and slack, still damp with drying blood and tears... and she wondered what had happened to him in his final living moments to make him cry...

She could feel Ranma standing behind her, watching silently.

But she couldn't fool herself. This body before her was Ranma as well. And he was solid and real, not merely an image, a presence, a voice... all as intangible as a dream. And, as she brushed his dark, tangled hair from his lifeless face, caressed his cheek, wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of his open mouth... she could feel a sob working its way up from deep within... But she could feel him standing behind her, and so she swallowed it back. She turned to look up at him... at his ghost, which now mirrored the gruesomeness of the death he had experienced. "Oh, Ranma..." she said hoarsely.

His pale face was etched with misery as he looked at her. "Akane," he whispered. "Maybe this ain't such a good idea."

Akane shook her head vehemently. "No," she said. "There has to be a way to fix this."

And so saying, she reached out and pulled Ranma's lifeless body to her, lifting him with quiet strength, cradling him carefully against her chest.

Ranma couldn't even begin to describe what he felt at that moment as he watched Akane hold his body protectively close. But it was an emotion almost akin to envy.

He turned sharply away from the scene, suddenly, irrationally not wanting to see...

...and froze in shock as he looked up the craggy trail.

There, just above a small rocky rise in the trail, less than fifty meters away... was the cave.

From this low side angle on the steep, winding trail, the dwelling of the Ancient One seemed just a tall, narrow sliver of darkness marring the sheer granite walls of the mountain's peak. He might have noticed it before, might have even known how close he was on some subconscious level as his life slipped away...

He had almost made it. He had come so close... only to die on the dragon's doorstep.

The nearness of the cave infuriated him, and he clenched his fists. Did the Ancient One know what had happened? That the only person he had allowed to pass through the barrier surrounding his mountain had died just a few meters away from reaching him to make a plea for help? Had the dragon just watched with apathy, not caring about one more human life lost on his mountain?

"Akane." He turned to her, trying to ignore the sharp ache inside at the sight of her holding his body. He could see tears glistening on her cheeks in the starlight as she slowly, almost reluctantly, lifted her gaze to look at him. "We're there," he said tonelessly, gesturing to the visible line of darkness, where their last hopes lay.

Akane nodded silently, her face tight and pale, but her eyes determined. She fiercely struggled to ignore her fears; the memories of years of agonizing loneliness that seeped into her heart, weighing it down just as surely as she could feel the cold weight of Ranma's lifeless body in her arms. The memories were a promise of her future if...

No. The Ancient One would help them. He had to.

Together, Ranma and Akane slowly walked up the last stretch of trail. The narrow sliver of cave that was visible loomed larger and larger, spreading out before them as they approached, until at last they stood before the huge, gaping hole in the mountainside. The mouth of the cave was vast, easily twice the width and height of the Tendo household, and it held a darkness more dismal and foreboding than the coldest shadow of night within.

Ranma stepped forward, unintimidated.

"Hey, Ancient One!" he yelled. "Get your scaly dragon butt out here, I wanna talk to you!"

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End of Part Twenty-two


	24. Dragon

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Part 23: Dragon

by Krista Perry

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Akane stood before the cave of the Ancient One, carefully cradling Ranma's limp form to her chest. As she stared into the darkness of the gaping hole, she was acutely aware of the feel of Ranma's body in her arms. If she didn't think about it, she could almost pretend he was only asleep... or even unconscious.

But his clothes were sticky with drying blood. His skin was the color of cold ash.

And his ghost was standing next to her.

She couldn't think about it. She couldn't think about it, because if she did, she would scream or cry or laugh or sob and never stop. So she didn't think. She just had to act, and get the problem solved. She had to fix this. She had to find a way to repair this... problem... that threatened to separate her from Ranma forever, just when she had finally found him again.

He wasn't looking at her. He hadn't looked directly at her, ever since she had picked up his body from off the stony, bloodstained ground. And he didn't look at her as he stepped forward -- seemingly unaware of how his feet never quite managed to touch the ground -- and cleared his throat to address the great Chinese dragon, who was their last hope.

"Hey, Ancient One!" Ranma yelled. "Get your scaly dragon butt out here, I wanna talk to you!"

Akane gasped, looking at him with wide, horrified eyes. "Ranma!" she squeaked in panic. "What do you think you're doing?!" She glanced anxiously into the unyielding darkness of the cave, half expecting a huge dragon's head to emerge, mouth open to swallow them whole... but nothing happened. She lowered her voice to an intense whisper. "Are you trying to make him angry?"

"Of course not," Ranma replied irritably, still not looking at her. "I'm just trying to get his attention, that's all."

Akane groaned. "Idiot, that's not the way to convince him to help us!"

"Well, what do _you_ think we should do?" he snapped, finally turning to face her. His eyes strayed to the body she carried, and she could see his face cloud with a dark, painful emotion that made her own heart ache in response.

Ranma suppressed a wince as he saw the anguish in Akane's expression. He was trying so hard to pretend that it didn't bother him, seeing her hold his dead body in her arms. But... when he did... it brought the reality of his situation into painful focus. As each moment passed, each second spent surrounded by a terrifying feeling of nothingness, of absence that had invaded nearly all of his senses... he found he was starting to feel less like a person, and more like a mere apparition. A lost spirit, increasingly disconnected from the physical world... from everything that he longed for.

"Look, Akane," he said, lowering his eyes again. "This so-called all-powerful dragon didn't do a thing to help me when I was bleeding to death right outside his cave. It _had_ to know I was there, since I'm the only one it even allowed on this stupid mountain. It obviously doesn't give a damn about mere humans." His voice was full of bitterness. "And you think I'm gonna be polite to him now?"

Akane didn't answer him for a long moment. Finally, he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Her head was bowed, and he couldn't tell if her eyes were closed, or if she was simply looking down at his dead face...

"If it means getting you back," she whispered at last, "I would grovel like a worm."

And Ranma immediately felt like the worst kind of worm himself. "Aw man, Akane..." he said, his tone softening. "I'm not saying I wouldn't do that too. Hell, if I thought groveling before this dragon would get us what we want, I'd do it in a second." He shook his head. "But think about it. This dragon only grants requests to the _strong._ It only respects people who can survive all those demons down there, and still make it up here alive." Ranma clenched his fists and looked at the ground so that Akane wouldn't see the helpless, infuriated look on his face. "Well, I didn't make it. But I'm sure as hell gonna make sure that this dragon knows just who he's dealing with anyway."

He looked up at her, expecting her to be angry; expecting her to yell at him for being a macho idiot...

But she didn't. In fact, he thought he saw her almost smile, and he raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"You... have a point," she said slowly, remembering a few entities she had run into in the Kami Plane, who had similar attitudes. "So... do you have a plan then?"

Ranma blinked. A plan? "Uh, well," he said, hesitantly. "The original plan was to just come and fight him until he agreed to break the blood spell, since I don't got any magic binding scroll like Shampoo had... but..." He looked down at himself. "I'm kinda at a disadvantage at the moment."

Akane snorted. "Only you would call death a 'disadvantage,'" she said, with a half smile.

Ranma grinned. "Yeah. This is just a temporary setback, right?"

Akane's small smile grew, and she nodded. "Right."

"Damn right!" Ranma raised his fist enthusiastically. "Nobody defeats Ranma Saotome for long. Not even death! I ain't gonna give up until the Ancient One agrees to help us. Even if all I can do right now is... is _haunt_ him."

Akane giggled.

And Ranma suddenly felt great. Here was Akane, obviously upset and disturbed by the events of the past few minutes, and if that weren't bad enough, she was carrying his corpse... and with all that, he had still been able to make her smile. To make her laugh.

It was a new power, a kind he had never really exercised before. Before the blood spell, he had been too afraid of his own reaction to her smiles to actively seek them out. But now...

"Besides, if it comes down to it," Ranma continued, trying not to get flustered by the realization of how cute she looked at that moment, "I... I think you could take him on. I mean, you helped me fight that eight-headed dragon at Ryuganzawa, and that was back when you were a clu... I mean, back before you became this, uh, kick-ass demon hunter."

Akane snorted. "Nice save," she said, her smile turning wry. "But thanks."

"Ah-heh..." Ranma's hand slipped behind his head, even as he mentally kicked himself. _Idiot, don't blow it now by falling back into old habits!_

"Okay, then," Akane said, nodding firmly. "We'll do it your way. If the Ancient One wants strength... We'll show him what it means to cross Ranma Saotome and Akane Tendo."

Ranma grinned. "All right! Now you're talkin'!" He turned back to the cave entrance. "You hear that, dragon?" he yelled. "We ain't taking no for an answer! So come on out and face us!"

They were answered with an all-pervasive silence from the darkness.

In fact, as they stood there, they slowly realized that, through their whole conversation, there hadn't been the slightest flicker of response from anything inside the cave at all.

"Ancient One!" Ranma could hear his voice echoing deep inside the cave. "Hey, c'mon! I don't got all day!"

_Got all day..._ the cave echoed.

Ranma and Akane looked at each other, both at a loss.

"Um..." Akane cleared her throat after a long moment. "Maybe he's not home," she suggested.

Ranma immediately spluttered in exasperation. "Not home? Not _home_? He's a dragon! Where's he gonna go, grocery shopping?"

"I don't know," Akane replied tersely, "but he's not answering, obviously, and I'm not sensing anything either. So either he's gone, or he's so deep in the cave that he can't hear us."

Ranma sighed. "Great. Just great. What do we do now?"

"Well, why don't we just go in and look for him?"

"Akane..." Ranma sighed again. "Look, that may seem like a great solution to you, since you've apparently developed this hyperactive battle sense that will keep you from running into bad guys and walls and other stuff in the dark, but only two of my six senses seem to be working at the moment," he said, pointing to an ear and an eye, "and if we go in there, I'll be down to one."

"Oh." Akane's mouth puckered in a small frown as she looked at him, her eyes glimmering with distress. "I'm sorry, I keep forgetting that you can't... I mean..."

"Whatever, I guess it doesn't matter anyway," Ranma said, looking into the impenetrable shadows inside the cave. Being blind wasn't so bad when you could at least sense your surroundings. But this... "We don't got a choice. I guess what we could do is, you could talk, and I'll just try to follow your voice and do my best not to... to float through a wall or something."

"Well, actually..." Akane's battle aura flared about her, bathing everything within a fifteen foot radius in a flickering blue light. She looked at him, enjoying the brief flash of astonishment on his face. "I've had a bit of experience in dealing with, um, pitch-black caves," she said.

Ranma stared, then raised an eyebrow. "Okay, that's... cool." Akane's amazing control over her ki was going to take some getting used to, especially since he was used to her ki being wild and unfocused. But he certainly wasn't going to complain -- at least, not right now. He felt embarrassed at how relieved he was that he didn't have to go into the dark, unable to sense anything around him...

...because, where before he had at least taken comfort in the seeming-solidity of his own ghostly form, that comfort was now lost in the terrifying sensation of continually bleeding from the long, thin puncture wound in his abdomen. On top of that, no matter what he did, he couldn't seem to wipe his bloody hands clean...

And... there was a small seed of growing panic deep inside his chest -- a desperation that craved to touch something solid; that hungered to feel even something as insignificant as air against his arms and face...

Or... better yet... something like the flicker of warmth he'd felt when Akane had touched him, or when he had brushed his intangible fingers against her face, and she had shivered... Even that small, barely-felt whisper of life had been so wonderful in comparison to the nothingness...

Delicious, almost...

Ranma swallowed, startled at the direction his train of thought had turned...

...as he suddenly remembered hanging helplessly in the embrace of a kuei. A kuei, who took pleasure in capturing humans; in plunging its ghostly hands into living bodies, holding its victims in a trance so that it could _feel_ something beyond itself...

Oh no.

"Ranma," Akane said, her voice full of concern. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

He was a kuei. He was a kuei, and he had _touched_ Akane... touched her with tainted, cursed hands, just so that he could feel... And Ranma blinked, realizing belatedly that his horrified understanding must be plain on his face.

"Nothing," he said quickly, turning away so that she could no longer see his expression. "I'm fine. Come on, let's go."

"But--"

"I said I'm fine, okay?!" he snapped. And immediately regretted it. Even if he couldn't see her face, he could tell from the abrupt silence that Akane was hurt.. "Oh man... I'm sorry," he said miserably, his shoulders slumping. "I didn't mean to yell."

"I'm just worried about you!" she said. Her voice was tearful.

"I know," he said softly. "I know, and I'm sorry. I'm just..." He looked down at his bloody hands. "Let's just go find this dragon, okay?"

Akane stared at Ranma's back, his stooped shoulders... at the blood that continued to seep from his ghostly wound... and realized with a start that Ranma, in spite of all his usual bravado... was scared.

"Okay," she whispered.

And she stepped forward into the cave, her battle aura penetrating the thick darkness, pushing it back. Ranma followed her silently.

-----------------

Fear was a strange thing, Nabiki realized, as she followed Kuno closely through a night-shrouded copse of trees, keeping her eyes fixed on his shadowed form ahead of her. She'd never realized before just how many different ways there were to feel afraid. There was the blinding white, almost detached terror of seeing the thread of your own mortality slide along the razor edge of death.

_Yeah. Been there, done that._

And then there was the fear she was feeling now - not the raw terror of before, but more of... a thick dread... a kind of breathlessness, as if her lungs were full of lead; a tightness through her shoulder blades, like taut piano wire. As if a threat was still there in the writhing darkness of the living forest around them, but lurking just... out of sight...

...or waiting for them at the end of the trail...

_Please, Ranma. Hurry and come back and defeat Cologne _before_ we reach the campsite..._

It was a selfish thought, she knew. Cologne had something terrible planned for Ranma; something insidious. And the old ghoul had seemed pretty damn confident that her final card in this game of desperation would be powerful enough to make Ranma abandon Akane and the rest of them, and willingly spend the rest of his life as a deferring, subservient husband in a hard-nosed matriarchal society. So whatever it was that she had planned had to be bad. Very bad.

But even so, Ranma was still their best chance of winning this conflict. Ukyo, Ryoga, Shampoo and Mousse had been defeated, and she didn't have any further delusions that she and Kuno might be able to stand up to the ancient Amazon alone, so what other hope did they have?

What if Ranma didn't make it back in time? What if he was so busy having his glorious reunion with Akane that he didn't return until it was too late? What if she and Kuno inadvertently beat him to the clearing, and walked right back into Cologne's waiting hands?

Then again, maybe that wouldn't be a problem, if they kept up at their current pace...

Nabiki held her arms up protectively around her face and eyes because of the threat of unseen branches. Kuno was taking similar precautions, she noticed, and yet he refrained from clearing the way with his bokken for fear of losing the evidence of the path he'd created in daylight. Still, she took comfort in the fact that at least he seemed to know where he was going.

"Watch your step," he said softly. "The terrain is very uneven through here."

"Thanks." She ducked under a low-hanging branch that Kuno held out of her way, and felt a rush of gratitude for the small kindness. Some lingering tattered shred of stubborn pride instinctively bristled within her, but she immediately squashed the impulse. To slip back into ice-queen mode now would be detrimental to her present purpose -- namely, getting out of this predicament alive. Kuno was in full-blown protective guardian mode, and she knew it would be the height of foolishness to undermine him when this was exactly what she needed if they were going to survive the night.

It still amazed her how he had managed to shed his insipid Love-Struck Warrior Poet persona in favor of his new-and-improved Humbled Fallen Samurai. But hey, if putting on that mask allowed him to wear a courageous facade in the face of humiliation... if it gave him the ability to protect her and make her feel even the slightest bit safer than before... if, by some chance, it actually _changed_ him... so much the better.

_Hey Kuno, do you have an extra mask I could borrow? I have to admit, yours actually seems pretty cool right now. Oh, and while you're looking through your Bag o' Personalities, could you check and see if you have anything that could make me a fighter strong enough to kick Cologne's butt, rather than some pathetic liability to this whole stupid expedition?_

Nabiki clenched her jaw. True, she wasn't too thrilled about having to be completely dependent on Kuno for protection, but at least she could live with it. Living _was_ the idea, after all. Getting back home in one piece without any serious maiming would be a pleasant bonus...

What she _really_ hated was this place. This primeval forest, four days journey away from the nearest primitive human dwelling. This deep, isolated forest that guarded the steep, jutting peak of a lonely forbidden mountain... was _old._ A landscape straight out of her worst nightmare. The twisted, towering trees, the tangled vines, the thick, spongy carpet of leaves and pine needles, the moist, musty air that she could feel under her skin... All these things held secrets that a person who had spent most of their life sleeping under the neon-polluted night sky of Tokyo would never dare guess.

We are far older than you, the forest sang softly, and she heard the song clearly in the faint, echoing call of birds; the rustling, grunting and hissing of wild animals. The trees moved and swayed to the voiceless music of the cool night wind. We are older than you, they sang, and we are home to creatures whose natures you could not possibly imagine...

Kuno could hear it as well, apparently. She could tell by the way he kept pausing, tilting his head slightly, then moving forward again with a caution that belied the boldness of his bearing.

Shampoo had said that the woods were safe; that the only real danger lay on the demon-infested mountain.

But Shampoo had been wrong about a lot of things lately.

_I hate this place. I hate it, I hate it..._

She took another careful step... and froze, startled, as all sounds around her abruptly ceased. The thrumming music of the living forest silenced, the cool breeze died into nothing, and, for a brief, frightened moment she thought she'd gone deaf, but for the throbbing of her heartbeat in her ears. She stumbled, nearly falling into Kuno, but he turned and caught her arm, steadying her.

"Ah," Kuno gasped softly; and yet his voice carried loudly in the sudden absence of other sounds. "It seems we are near the Mountain of the Ancient One."

"Apparently," she agreed wryly, swallowing against the thickness in her throat. She had experienced the same phenomenon earlier that day where, in just a few steps, they had walked out of a forest rustling with the constant murmur of life, and into a forest where even the wind was still... except when it whispered with a mocking voice as cold as death.

Entering the noiseless shroud that surrounded the Mountain of the Ancient One had been unnerving the first time, in broad daylight. Now, in the pressing darkness of night, knowing what she knew...

"Come on." Nabiki clenched her teeth against the sudden urge to chatter. "Let's get going. Ranma's probably already taken care of everything, and they're probably looking for us."

Kuno nodded, released her arm, then stood for a moment, looking searchingly into the thick tangle of forest before them.

"What are you waiting for?" Nabiki wrapped her arms tightly around her chest and glanced around with growing nervousness. "I don't know about you, but I want to get out of here as soon as possible."

"The trail is gone."

Nabiki blinked. "What?"

Kuno turned to look at her, and even in the darkness, she could see the perplexed look that creased his shadowed features. "The trail... the path to the camp site that I created as I... fled..." He reached out to carefully plunge one hand into the unyielding tangle of shrubbery and vines in their path. "It has disappeared. There are no more broken or severed branches, nothing... It seems to have been overgrown, or... changed, or..."

Funny, the different kinds of fear a person could feel, Nabiki mused, as a completely new sick sensation suddenly filled her gut. She should have known something like this would happen. The forest within the Ancient One's boundary of silence seemed to have erased their path.

"So," she said, and she was surprised at the calmness of her own voice. "What you're saying is that we're lost. Well, can't you just make another path going straight ahead? Won't that lead us back to the camp site?"

Kuno cleared his throat uneasily. "I'm afraid," he said quietly, "that, in my haste to save our lives, my escape was not very... linear."

Nabiki stifled the urge to groan.

"However," he continued, turning to push at the tangled barrier of foliage with the flat of his bokken, "I believe that if we continue to follow the uphill grade, we shall eventually emerge from this forest at the base of the mountain. We can then follow the circumference of the mystical unseen barrier until we discover our place of camp." He tilted his head at her in a deferring gesture that surprised her. "Does this strike you as a reasonable course of action?"

"Uh... sure," she replied slowly. It certainly sounded better than her first rather dangerous inclination to try climbing one of the twisted trees in the dark to see if they could get their bearings.

She eyed Kuno speculatively. First, being able to follow little more than a deer trail in near pitch black, and now this. Kuno was turning out to be even more useful than she first thought. Certainly more useful than _she_ was feeling at the moment, which is why she found it so odd that he would look for her approval when he was clearly the one with the understanding to deal with their current situation. "So, you learn all this forestry stuff when you were a little Samurai Scout?" she asked dryly.

"Yes."

Nabiki blinked as she caught the underlying smile in his voice. Then her mouth quirked up at the corner in response.

She still wasn't sure what to make of this new side of Kuno. He was much more quiet, for one thing. Introspective, even. When he did talk, he still sounded a bit like an anal-retentive literature student, but at least he had sense. And maybe even a sense of humor. Which was a good thing to have, she supposed, when you didn't even know if you were going to live through the night.

"Well then," she said, smiling. "By all means, lead the way."

With that, Kuno turned and began clearing the way before them with swift sweeps of his bokken. Nabiki found herself once again amazed at Kuno's skill; how he could make a wooden practice sword behave like a blade of sharpest steel.

He was no Ranma when it came to martial arts. But that didn't change the fact that, before Ranma and his other martial artist cohorts had showed up in Nerima, Kuno had been the best, which was no small feat.

The cleanly severed leaves and branches fell to the ground with a steady rustle that might have been comforting... were it not for the complete absence of other sounds.

"Hey, Kuno."

"Yes?"

"Can you sing?"

Kuno paused in cleaving his way through the forest and turned to look at her in surprise. "Pardon?"

She shrugged. "It's just... this freaky silence and everything. It's creeping me out, and I thought, you know, maybe a... a hiking song or something..." Kuno stared at her, and she could feel herself flushing red. She was suddenly glad, at least momentarily, for the cover of darkness. What on earth was she thinking, asking Kuno if he could _sing_ of all things? Gah! Chalk up one more strange thing that fear could do to a normally rational person like herself...

"Okay," she said, clenching her teeth, "I know, it's a stupid, cheesy idea. I don't care. Besides, it's not like we'll be able to take Cologne by surprise or anything, what with you crashing through this jungle like a rabid elephant." She waved her hand towards the fallen foliage in an impatient gesture. "So it's not like a bit of extra noise would hurt."

Kuno paused, as if carefully considering his words. "I didn't say it was a stupid idea," he said at last.

"No," she replied shortly, "but you were staring at me like it was."

"I was merely wondering why _you_ don't sing, if you feel such a need for it."

Nabiki nearly choked. Her? Sing in front of Kuno? "Sorry," she said quickly, "but my throat's so dry right now, I'd sound like a bullfrog on a gravel diet."

Was that a smile on the edge of his lips? In the darkness, she couldn't tell. He'd better not be laughing at her...

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a singer," he said.

Nabiki sighed and ran her hand through her hair, which, after four days in the wilderness, only served to remind her how badly she wanted a shower. "Fine. You won't sing, I won't sing. Forget I mentioned it. Let's just _go,_ okay?"

"Very well."

Kuno turned and resumed his hack-and-slash passage through the forest.

After a few moments... he began whistling.

Nabiki blinked in surprise.

It was a rough, raspy sound at first, but then Kuno paused to lick his lips. When he began again, the notes were clear and steady, floating thinly through the vast silence that surrounded them.

The notes rose and fell in a light, airy melody. It sounded like an old folk song of some kind, though Nabiki didn't recognize it.

And she felt herself flushing again, embarrassed and yet grateful all the same. She felt silly, feeling so suddenly comforted, like a child afraid of the dark who needed a night light and a teddy bear. But better this than to allow herself to be overwhelmed by everything that had happened, topped off with her fears of everything that might be ahead of them... or around them...

It was... awfully nice of Kuno to whistle, she reluctantly admitted to herself. Probably one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for her...

And in a way, his kindness scared her even more than the terrifying, supernatural silence. His change in demeanor; his unexpected thoughtfulness was making her feel... warm things about him. He was whistling past the metaphorical graveyard for her sake, to keep fear, ghosts or both away. He was giving her strength and support at a time when she'd never felt more weak and worthless. And, at this moment, he was making her feel so intensely grateful, she could feel tears beginning to burn her eyes and throat.

_On second thought... maybe this is the _perfect_ time to slip back into ice queen mode,_ she thought.

Still, she possessed at least one more thread of self-control; at least one spark of rationality that hadn't yet been severed in the past few hours. And she clung to it like a lifeline.

She was Nabiki Tendo. She could handle this. If there was a way to get out of this nightmare alive, she would figure it out.

And then she could decide, with a mind not muddled by terror, how she _really_ felt about Kuno.

So, instead of crying, she clenched her teeth against the aching in her throat and the burning behind her eyes, and followed Kuno silently. And she listened intently to the slash of his bokken, the rustling of leaves and branches falling before them, and the cheery folk tune that Kuno kept whistling, keeping them surrounded with a small pocket of sound that was, if not safe, at least keeping her terror at bay.

And then, in the distance, far outside their little pocket of noise... they heard the wailing.

They both heard it at the same time, and they froze in mid-movement, staring wide-eyed out into the darkness. Kuno's whistling faltered, the notes dying on his lips, as the faint, eerie sound reached their ears.

Nabiki's jaw was clenched so hard, it hurt. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to relax. "Um... I know I'm going to be sorry for asking this," she said in a low voice, "but... what in the hell was that?"

"I don't know." Kuno frowned, peering intently into the inky darkness.

Nabiki grimaced. "Can you tell where it's-"

The words froze in her throat as the haunting, inhuman cry rent the air again -- a shriek of fury and despair that made goose bumps erupt along her arms.

And then Nabiki felt the strange breeze on her skin, biting cold like the sting of needles.

"Okay," she said, with a strange, tight calmness. "I'm for running. Right now. How about you?"

But before Kuno could even reply, they heard the scream again, full of soul-rending rage, and Nabiki felt her heart clamber violently up her throat as the sound reached a nerve-jangling crescendo. And with the scream, an icy, freezing wind whipped through the woods around them, lashing the foliage into a frenzy, numbing the skin of her face and arms, making her nose run and her ears ache... Through her shivering terror, Nabiki realized belatedly that she was clutching Kuno's arm, and that she intended to run, it didn't matter where, just as long as it was away from _that_ and so she would run and she would drag Kuno along with her...

...but then the wind died. And as it did, the scream faltered... and dissolved into quiet, broken... weeping?

Nabiki stood like a statue, peering blindly into the darkness, listening intently, trying to hear over the thudding of her heartbeat in her ears. Still, in the ensuing silence, it was much easier to tell the direction of where the sound was coming from...

Ahead of them, and off to the left...

"Kuno," she whispered, almost mouthing the word to keep the sound from carrying. She pointed off to the right. "Let's go that way. Come on, now's our chance."

Kuno didn't move. He was staring into the thick forest towards the haunting, sobbing sound of despair.

Nabiki tugged impatiently on Kuno's arm. "Kuno..."

"Shh," he hushed. "Listen..."

"I don't _want_ to listen," Nabiki hissed, trying to keep from raising her voice. "I want to get the hell out of--"

And then the weeping changed to a whisper that sent a chill of dread rippling up Nabiki's spine. The whisper was distant and faint, but clear in the absence of other sounds.

"Akane," the voice sobbed quietly in a strangely familiar voice. "Akane-chan..."

Kuno turned to look at Nabiki, and even in the darkness Nabiki could see that his eyes were as wide as hers.

"Oh gods." Nabiki blinked as the pieces suddenly fell into place. "It's the Snow Woman."

Kuno looked at her sharply in surprise. "The Snow Woman? Are you sure?"

"Pretty damn sure," she replied shortly, still shivering from the sudden onset of the unseasonable winter cold.

"But why is she here?" Kuno's voice was barely audible, but Nabiki could still hear the disturbed tone of his voice. "Does she not reside in the Kami Realm, as you said? Why did she scream with such distress, and why is she calling for your sister?"

The questions, which echoed the ones in her own heart, caused an old familiar calm to settle within her. Nabiki felt her down-to-business mask fall into place with an almost audible _snap_ as a fiery anxiousness rose within her chest, burning through her frozen, incapacitating terror.

She looked at Kuno with a stoic, half-lidded gaze. "Let's find out," she said.

That was all the urging Kuno needed. He immediately turned and began to slash a trail through the choking foliage towards the sound. Nabiki followed.

As they made their way through the dense forest, she noticed that the fresh spring growth of the surrounding foliage... was covered in a thin layer of white frost. The frost glinted in the brief patches of starlight that managed to struggle through the tangled, leafy canopy overhead. With each step they took towards the piteous sound of the Snow Woman's quiet sobs, the temperature seemed to drop, and the frost seemed to thicken around them until each brush of a leaf brought with it the sensation of ice melting against warm skin. The frozen ground crackled beneath their feet.

Nabiki wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to chatter.

Gradually, she began to see a soft blue glow filtering through the darkness of the winter-shrouded thicket before them. Each frost-layered leaf and branch seemed to catch the ghostly light and hold it within each crystal, so that they seemed almost luminescent in and of themselves. A thick white fog crept across the forest floor, cold tendrils writhing about her ankles.

They were making their way through enchanted, crystalline scenery straight out of a fairy tale, and Nabiki would have found the sight almost beautiful, were she not so anxious to find the source... The eerie bluish light was a welcome guide, making Kuno's job of creating a path much easier, and Nabiki suddenly found herself stepping quickly to keep up with him.

They emerged abruptly into a clearing, and they both stopped, amazed at the sight before them.

Everything was covered in gleaming ice. Sheets of it covered the ground, the rocks, the plants...

The Snow Woman knelt on the frozen ground, her head bowed as she wept, her long white tresses flowing around her like water. The soft blue glow that lit the clearing emanated from one slender white hand that was pressed against the invisible barrier of the Ancient One's Mountain... only the barrier was no longer quite so invisible, for it was now covered with glittering patches of frost that seemed to hang in the air like motionless ice spirits.

Scattered on the frozen ground around the Snow Woman's shuddering form, large jagged shards of a shattered mirror lay glinting in the starlight.

Nabiki and Kuno stared, speechless.

The Snow Woman slowly raised her head and looked at them, her smooth white face, etched with resigned misery, flickering with brief surprise at their intrusion.

"You," she said softly, hoarsely, looking at Nabiki. "I know you. You are Akane's sister..."

Nabiki stepped forward hesitantly, swallowing against the sudden dryness in her throat. "Yes," she said. "Where is she? Is she safe?"

"Safe?" came the lifeless reply. "Oh, no, no... Not safe, not now... I tried to stop her... I tried to reach her first so that she wouldn't see... but the dragon's barrier... He wouldn't let me through..." Her free hand strayed to the slivers of glass that surrounded her. "And... my mirror..."

"What are you talking about?" Nabiki asked tightly, trying to smother the rising fear and frustration that swelled within her at the Snow Woman's cryptic response. "Why isn't Akane safe?"

The Snow Woman groaned low in her throat, a terrible sound of anguish. "She is on the mountain... alone... and she mustn't see..."

"See _what?_" Nabiki snapped, her ire rising. "If she's on the mountain, then she's _not_ alone! That means Ranma is with her. He saved her, he broke the blood spell!"

The Snow Woman turned and glared at her suddenly, her frost-blue eyes blazing even as tears of ice slid down her cheeks. "You foolish child, don't you understand?" she cried. "Ranma _cannot_ save her! He is slain! Murdered by the demon Shadowcat!"

Nabiki felt the blood slowly drain from her face. Behind her, she heard Kuno mutter a low, broken oath. "Wh-what?"

"Ranma is dead," the Snow Woman said with a voice so full grief and bitterness that it was like a raw, open wound. "And Akane is alone on the mountain with nothing but demons and his corpse for company."

"No," Nabiki whispered numbly. "That... that's impossible..." Her head suddenly felt like it was full of cold lead. Her hands were tingling. Her heart was thudding like a rabbit's deep inside her chest. "Ranma... he... he can't..."

The Snow Woman sagged suddenly, reaching out with a white hand to touch a shard of mirror lying on the frozen ground beside her. "I saw it with my own eyes..."

Nabiki shook her head forcefully, as if doing so would somehow erase the horror of the Snow Woman's revelation. "But... the blood spell... Ranma broke it..."

"Yes. With his death," the Snow Woman whispered.

Nabiki stared at the Snow Woman in white-faced silence as she suddenly found herself wondering how her little sister would react when she found his body...

Kuno spoke from behind her, his voice low and intense. "There _must_ be some way to get past the barrier."

The Snow Woman turned on him, clenching her fists. "Do you think I have not tried?! I have summoned all my power, weakened though it is by this warm season, even calling upon the lingering memory of winter from the earth for strength... and I can do nothing! I have even pleaded for help from the foreign gods of this land, but they answer me with silence!"

No adequate response came to Kuno's mind. He could only stand, looking at the pale, beautiful woman of legend, helpless and immobile, his mind numb and reeling at the news of Ranma's death. The "foul sorcerer Saotome," the bane of his existence, who had kept his True Loves from him for so long...

He would never get the chance to tell Ranma he was sorry...

And Akane...

"Cologne," Nabiki whispered.

Kuno looked at her, alarmed. "What?"

Nabiki turned her flat-eyed gaze towards him. "She had the scroll that Shampoo used to get on the mountain the first time. This is her land, these are her gods. On top of that, she's got a few thousand years of Amazon history behind her, as she never hesitates to remind us. If anyone knows how to get past the Ancient One's barrier, she does."

"Are you suggesting," Kuno asked steadily, "that we return and request help from one who desires to kill you?"

Nabiki didn't answer. Instead, she looked at the Snow Woman. "You fought Cologne before. Can you do it again?"

The Snow Woman shook her head wearily. "I was able to defeat the Amazon, only because I had the power of my own domain at my command, and because I was able use my mirror to bridge the gap between realms. Now my mirror lies shattered, and I am trapped in this land, in a season where Nature itself binds my power."

Nabiki nodded, her mouth a tight, thin line. "I see. Well, Cologne has her own little handicap to deal with. I shot a big hole in her shoulder, and I'm sure it's taking a lot of her will power, or ki, or whatever to keep herself upright."

The Snow Woman looked at her sharply, her eyes wide. "Shot..?"

"You know, with a gun." Nabiki's face was expressionless as she made a shooting motion with one hand. "Bang. The old ghoul was busy taking out my friends, so she wasn't expecting it. The wound probably would have killed anyone else, but like I said, she's got that ki stuff to hold herself together. Still, I expect that would even the odds a bit for you."

The Snow Woman frowned speculatively, and she straightened, rising gracefully to her feet. The weary resignation in her countenance slowly faded as a new spark of faint hope glinted in her frost-blue eyes. "Yes," she murmured. "That would indeed level the playing field..."

Kuno watched the eerily-calm exchange between Nabiki and the Snow Woman with growing unease, and cleared his throat. "Even if by chance the old woman does know the secret to pass the barrier, how can we force her to reveal it to us? I do not think she would help us... _especially_ if she were defeated."

Nabiki shrugged with a casualness that Kuno found deeply disturbing. "She went through all this trouble to get Ranma," she said. "We'll just tell her he's in trouble. Or maybe even offer him to her in exchange for getting us through the barrier."

Kuno couldn't hide his shock at her callousness. "But--"

"He's dead," Nabiki said coldly, her eyes flat and opaque as smoked glass. "It doesn't matter. There's nothing we can do about it now, but that doesn't mean I can't use the knowledge to my advantage. I just want my sister off that mountain. Now are you going to help us or not?"

Kuno stared at her for a long moment.

Nabiki stared right back at him. And, just beneath the surface of those flat, emotionless eyes... he thought he saw a flicker of unspeakable grief and anger...

He closed his eyes and nodded. "All right."

"Then let us not waste any more time," said the Snow Woman.

"Lady," Kuno said with cautious respect, "while I agree that we must act with haste for Akane's sake, I am afraid we are lost in this wilderness. Our camp lies somewhere near this barrier, but the base of the mountain is vast."

Rather than answering, the Snow Woman reached down and picked up a single shard of mirror, the size of her hand, and kissed it with her icy breath. The swirling frost magic cleared to reveal within the shard, the image of an ancient, white-haired crone, hunched over her wounded shoulder as she stared into the flickering flames of a campfire...

"There," Yuki-onna said, her voice as cold and hard as the mirror's surface. "This will show us the quickest way." She looked up and met Kuno's astonished gaze, and a small, grim smile quirked the edges of her white lips. "For good or ill, young mortal, we will confront the Amazon soon."

-----------------

Akane had lots of practice when it came to entering the domains and habitats of preternatural beings, so she wasn't all that surprised when, as she stepped into the absolute darkness of the Ancient One's cave, she felt as though she were passing through a whispery-thin membrane, moist and fragile, like the surface of a soap bubble. It allowed her to pass, flowing around her without breaking, springing back taut and whole behind her. And then she was inside the cave, with Ranma standing next to her.

_Did you feel that?_ she wanted to ask him, but before she could... she saw the cavern.

They stood for a moment in stunned silence as they stared, wide eyed, at their surroundings.

"Whoa," Ranma finally said.

"You said it," Akane breathed. "I guess I won't need to use my battle aura after all."

The cavern was, as she expected, immense. It reminded her of the inside of the Tokyo Dome, only... bigger. However... the rounded walls and ceiling were formed of perfect, unnaturally smooth pearl-gray stone. And, embedded within the stone.... thousands upon thousands of large, tear-shaped gems lined the cavern, shining with faint golden light, suffusing everything with a soft, warm glow.

Ranma cleared his throat in surprise. "Shampoo... didn't mention this," he said.

Akane looked up at the ceiling that seemed to reach much higher than the mountain peak outside had indicated. "She probably didn't see it, if she stayed outside the cave," she murmured with soft amazement. Shifting Ranma's increasingly-heavy body within her arms to get a better grip, she walked over to the nearest wall to examine the strange glowing stones. "We passed through some kind of barrier. Probably an illusion spell of some kind that keeps intruders from seeing what's actually in here."

Ranma gave her an odd look, which she missed, because she wasn't looking at him. As a matter of fact, he noticed, she was being quite careful to look at everything except him.

Not that he could blame her. Looking down at himself in the warm, golden glow, he could really see, for the first time, just how bad he actually looked. Out on the night-shrouded mountain side, darkness and faint starlight had done wonders to cover up the gore. He grimaced. Those gruesome specters they had encountered at the Cave of Lost Love didn't have a thing on him, he mused soberly. The blood that slicked his hands, drenched his shirt, and trickled continuously from the corner of his mouth, glistened, bright and wet in the unforgiving light.

Another somewhat less-disturbing discovery was that, while Akane had faint shadows spread about her feet like flower petals, due to the thousands of glowing stones that surrounded them, he remained perfectly shadow-less. Creepy.

"So," he said with forced casualness. "You've come across something like this before? Something looking different on the inside than it does on the outside?"

"Mm, once or twice," Akane agreed distractedly, as she got a close-up look at one of the glowing, tear-shaped stones. It was easily twice the size of her head. And, now that she was closer, she could see that the stone wasn't embedded in the wall at all, but rather, it was smooth and flat, and mounted to the wall by three tiny golden hooks -- two at the wide rounded base, and one at the pointed tip. She wanted to touch it, to see if it was as warm as the light it emitted, but she wasn't willing to let go of Ranma's body to free her hands.

"Dragon scales," Ranma said, coming up behind her.

"Yes," Akane agreed. "I think I remember hearing somewhere that, after a dragon sheds its scales, they glow..."

Ranma shook his head as he took in the overwhelming view. "Jeeze. The Ancient One must be one damn huge monster. But hey, I betcha he's saving a ton on his electric bill."

Akane let out a short, nervous laugh, as she glanced at Ranma out of the corner of her eye. She didn't quite succeed in suppressing a shudder as she carefully averted her gaze away from him, and silently prayed that Ranma didn't notice.

He noticed. He thought about saying something, like _Sorry I'm looking so gross at the moment_, but somehow he got the feeling that it wouldn't make her feel any better. It certainly wasn't making _him_ feel all that great...

"Hey, look," Akane said, breaking him from his dark thoughts. "What's that over there?"

Ranma followed her gaze to the far end of the cavern, where a small, oval shaped hole broke the smooth continuity of the scale-lined wall. "Maybe a doorway or something? Though it seems really small for a dragon..."

"Come on." Akane began walking towards it quickly. "Let's check it out."

Ranma frowned, keeping a silent, gliding pace with her as they crossed the floor of the vast cavern. _You stay here_, he wanted to say. _This is too weird, too dangerous. I don't want you getting hurt. Let me take care of it._

Yeah, right. He couldn't stop her from going, even if he wanted to -- a fact that was bugging the hell out of him to no end. Ranma clenched his jaw in frustration. The situation was a double-edged sword. So what if Akane was now a veteran warrior? That didn't stop him from wanting to protect her; from wanting to keep her from needing to fight. But to do that, he needed his life back, and to accomplish that... Akane might need to fight. And fight a dragon who, from the looks of the cavern, was just as huge and dangerous as Shampoo had said...

Of course, fighting the Ancient One wouldn't even be an issue if they couldn't even manage to _find_ him...

As they approached the oval hole, they discovered that it was indeed a doorway of some kind. The opening was about five meters high and three meters wide. Beyond, a single glowing dragon scale was mounted on the wall, softening the darkness within with diffused, golden light, and they could see a winding staircase, formed from the same strange smooth pearl-gray rock, that spiraled upward.

Silently, Akane stepped into the passage way. A cool breeze brushed her skin, and she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. "Ranma... can you smell that?"

"Akane..." he sighed, as he drifted beside her.

She opened her eyes as she felt herself flush with embarrassment. "Sorry. I keep forgetting that you..." She sighed. "Anyway," she continued in a low voice, "this is weird, but... I can smell flowers. And... water. Like the air before a rainstorm."

"Rain?" Ranma blinked. "Inside a cave?"

"I've seen stranger things," Akane replied with a half-smile. "Come on." She started up the narrow, winding spiral staircase.

Ranma followed close behind, since the stairway was too narrow for them to walk side by side. At first, he was inwardly annoyed; his already severely bruised male pride rankling at being unable to take the lead.

However, after several minutes of climbing, each moment spent staring at Akane's back, Ranma found himself... increasingly fascinated by the sweeping mass of her long, dark hair. It swung almost hypnotically before his eyes, back and forth over the graceful movement of her swaying hips as she climbed the stairs with swift ease...

Ranma blinked, only then realizing that his eyes were about as wide as saucers. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to look away, even as he wondered how long he had been staring. What on earth was he thinking? This certainly wasn't the time or place for such thoughts! And, oh man, if Akane knew what had been going through his mind, she'd be furious...

Then again...

_Never be sorry for wanting to touch me..._

Akane's words from just a short while before rang in his head, mocking him as he looked down at his bloody hands. Okay. Maybe she wouldn't be furious. But that possibility only made it worse...

_Akane... you have no idea..._

He was acutely aware of that small seed of panic that he had first felt at his realization of the true nature of his kuei curse, slowly growing within him, and he fought it back fiercely. The desire to touch something solid was a deep, gnawing ache. And worse, the memory of Akane's living warmth evoked a _hunger_ in him, as though his chest were hollow, and could only be filled by allowing his intangible hands to drift within her living body...

His bloody fingers twitched at his sides, and he clenched his fists convulsively.

Okay. The walls. He'd look at them. They were a hell of a lot less interesting. Each rotation on the seemingly-endless stairway only brought into view yet another glowing dragon scale and more stairway. But at least _that_ view didn't make him want to reach out and...

"Ranma..."

Ranma jerked, facing forward abruptly, hoping that the guilt he felt wasn't plain on his face.

But Akane wasn't even looking at him. And, peering beyond her, he could see that she had reached the top of the stairs, and was standing in front of another doorway. It was the same shape and size as the one below, but the opening was draped with cobalt-blue silks, billowing with the slight breeze that whispered through the opening. White pearls, each the size of his fist, lined the oval rim, shimmering with a muted, silvery light.

Akane turned to look over her shoulder at him then, and her expression was tense with an almost fearful anticipation. "Come on," she whispered. "I think this is it. There's something powerful in there..." And before Ranma could even utter a warning for her to be careful, she slipped through the veiled doorway, holding his body close.

Akane swallowed a gasp as she stepped through the shrouding veils of silk... and emerged from the cave into open air, and onto a landscape of rolling, tree-lined hills that stretched in all directions.

The night sky above was brilliant with a vast expanse of stars, glittering with impossible nearness. The Milky Way seemed to move and ripple above her, like a bright river flowing across the sky, bathing the land in pale light. Immediately before her, a scarlet bridge stretched over a small stream that cut a swath through carefully trimmed grasses before merging into a vast, still pond that reflected the night sky in all its glory. Lotus flowers floated on the pond's silver surface, their moonlight-white petals open to the sky and wet with dew. Beds of flowers and rocks were arranged tastefully around the pond. The humid air was heavy with the scent of lilies that lined the banks of the stream, and a gentle breeze whispered through a grove of willow trees near the pond, the tips of their low-hanging branches stretching out over the watery mirror.

Most impressive of all, though, were the eight pillars of iridescent light in the distance. Each pillar seemed to be a point in a vast, perfect octagon, of which the garden stood at the center. The pillars rose from the ground, stretching up until they seemed to merge with the light of the stars themselves.

Ranma came to stand by Akane, his eyes scanning the skies, but not to take in the splendor of the stars, nor the strange pillars of light. He took in his surroundings, oblivious to the beauty, with a caution born of not being able to use the living senses he had lost; of being unable to perceive the source of the power Akane had mentioned. Gradually, as his searching eyes found no hint of any other presence, his caution melted into outright aggravation. He turned to Akane, to see if she was having any luck, but found that she was too busy ogling the flowers. "Well?" he said irritably. "Where the hell is this dragon, anyway?"

Akane shook her head. "I... I don't know. There's a feeling of power here, but... it's all over. I can't tell where it's coming from. It's too spread out." She shrugged uneasily. "It might even be coming from those columns of light, for all I know."

Ranma snorted with disgust. "Sheesh. You'd think that, as big as he is, the Ancient One wouldn't be able to hide so damn well."

Akane was about to respond, when she caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. Ranma noticed it the same moment, because they both turned towards it simultaneously.

Something was moving towards them through the shadows of the willow grove less than twenty meters away.

"Akane." Ranma hissed the warning through clenched teeth.

She nodded, and hastily knelt down, gently laying Ranma's body on the grass before reaching back to draw her sword as she stood in a ready stance. Ranma stood next to her, anxiously wishing he could do more than just stand by helplessly if they should be attacked by whatever creature a dragon would leave to guard its lair...

They watched the figure emerged from the shadows of the trees... and they both blinked.

It was an old man, stooped with age. He wore long nondescript brown robes, and his gray hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the base of his neck. His long, thin mustache hung nearly down to the end of his beard, which was tied neatly at the end with a short piece of string. He paid them no heed, but instead, walked slowly over to a bed of pale blue irises, knelt down, and with great care, began to pull weeds, placing them into a small cloth bag that hung at his waist.

Ranma stared, flummoxed. "Uh... The Ancient One has a gardener?"

Akane looked slowly over at Ranma, her eyes still wide with surprise. "Ranma," she whispered. "I think that _is_ the Ancient One."

"What?" Ranma looked again. Yup, still the same old guy, digging in the dirt, and apparently too senile to even realize they were standing less than fifteen meters away. "No way. That ain't him."

"Yes it _is_," Akane insisted, leaning towards him and lowering her voice even further. "Trust me, I've seen this a dozen times. An all-powerful deity disguised as a lowly peasant or priest or something. And besides, can't dragons change shape?"

"You're asking me?" Ranma grumbled, making no attempt to be quiet, his frustration at the whole situation getting the better of him. If, after everything he'd been through, the dragon turned out to be some stupid old guy, he was going to be incredibly pissed. "You're the expert, obviously, so you tell me."

Akane's expression slid into one of hurt anger. "I'm just trying to help," she whispered back fiercely.

Ranma almost snapped back, old habits rearing their ugly heads... but instead, he sighed, struggling to get his temper back under control. "I know, I know," he said wearily. "I'm not mad at you... I'm just mad at this whole stupid situation." He looked at her and smiled weakly. "Sorry for being a jerk about it."

Akane softened immediately. "I'm sorry too." She laughed a little, but it sounded tired and a little afraid. "This... getting along... is going to take a bit of getting used to."

Ranma nodded. _I only hope we have the chance to get used to it,_ he thought, his eyes straying back to the old man who still seemed blissfully unaware of their presence, though, if Akane was right about him, that probably wasn't the case at all. He peered at the old man intently, a scowl creasing his face as the old man continued to work amidst the flowers without even a glance in their direction. "I'm gonna go talk to him," he said, stepping forward.

"Wait," Akane whispered urgently. She was going to say, _Let me talk to him_, since she had more experience in trying to bargain with other-worldly entities... not that she'd really ever had much success, but that was beside the point...

However, when Ranma looked back at her, impatience and determination plain on his pale, gray-skinned countenance, she swallowed her words. She knew his male pride was stinging badly from being physically incapable of helping her so far. The least she could do was trust him to handle this...

"Just..." She took a deep breath. "Try not to make him angry, okay?" she said with a small, hopeful smile.

Ranma gave her a small flash of his old, cocky grin. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'll be diplomatic, you just watch." And before Akane could say another word, he turned and quickly approached the kneeling old man until he was standing right before his bowed, silver-haired head.

"Ahem," he said, clearing his throat, hoping the old man would finally look up and notice him.

The old man didn't look up. Instead, he reached down once again and parted the irises at the roots to grasp a thin, curling weed, pluck it carefully from the soil, and place it in the bag at his waist.

"Um... excuse me," Ranma said, with rather forced politeness, since he was growing more irritated with each passing second.

No response. Another weed went into the old man's bag.

"Hey, you," Ranma snapped. "Look at me, dammit! I'm tired of being ignored!"

Behind him, he could hear Akane groan, and he could almost hear her thinking, _So much for diplomacy._ He grimaced. Okay, so he blew it. But he was just so tired of this whole charade...

He broke off in mid-thought as the old man slowly raised his head to look up at him.

The old man's eyes were utterly inhuman in the wrinkled, aging face -- solid black and liquid, like a film of ink over pools of night. And, deep within the center of each midnight orb, a shimmering glow the size of a pin prick, as if the darkness within each eye had been punctured and was bleeding light.

Ranma swallowed his surprise. "Uh... hey there..." he said nervously, his bravado slipping away beneath that unearthly gaze. "Uh... so, you're the Ancient One, huh?"

The old man's face creased unexpectedly with a smile. Ranma could see that his teeth behind the withered lips were white and sharp.

The old man looked beyond Ranma to where Akane was standing, wide-eyed. "Daughter of fire and ice," he said, his voice soft, though there was a distant roaring sound behind it, like the rush of an immense waterfall. Then he looked back at Ranma, his black eyes reflecting nothing. "Infant kuei," he said.

Ranma's eye twitched, and he clenched his teeth. _Who are you calling an infant?_ he wanted to say. His chest burned with indignation and humiliation, but, with every ounce of his self control, he bit back the words, once again swallowing his pride. As much as he wanted, to, he couldn't pound the guy's face in, he reminded himself. He finally had the old guy's attention, and he had some business to take care of. Getting his life back was far more important than anything else. He couldn't let Akane down by losing his temper again.

_Diplomacy,_ he thought to himself forcibly.

"Ancient One," he said, and the amount of respect he was able to muster in his voice surprised even him. "I have a request to make."

The old man looked at him for a long moment, the strange points of light glinting deep within his liquid black eyes... then he laughed quietly; a sound like the shushing of a windless rainstorm against forest foliage.

Ranma blinked, perplexed and annoyed. "What's so funny?" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You _are_ the Ancient One, right?"

"I am," came the quiet, amused reply.

Before Ranma could say anything, Akane stepped forward to stand next to him. "Please, Ancient One," she said, fighting off a wave of uneasiness as she looked in to the ethereal depths of the old man's eyes. "I... I am willing to pay the blood price, in exchange for your help." She took a deep breath as she saw, in her peripheral vision, Ranma's head swivel towards her, his eyes wide with shock. "Whatever it takes," she whispered.

"No way." Akane flinched at the anger in Ranma's voice, and when she glanced over at him, she saw the old, familiar stubbornness in his expression. "I'm not letting him touch a hair on your head," he said fiercely.

"But Ranma--"

"You're already wounded," he said, turning away from the old man to face her directly. "You carry yourself well, and try to hide that you're hurt, but I know damn well that all the blood on your clothes ain't just mine. And you're starting to limp," he said, pointing down to her bloodied foot.

Akane looked down and frowned. She had almost forgotten about her entangling encounter with the spider demon that had punctured her foot when she kicked against its spiny legs. Okay, so it was true that she had been wounded in the fight with the demons before she crossed back over into the mortal realm, but... "So what?" she asked, looking back up at Ranma, her determination matching his. "I can handle a lot worse."

"I said no!" he snapped. And in his eyes, behind the anger, she could see all of his worry and concern for her, which both pleased her immeasurably, and irritated her at the same time.

"Ranma, don't be foolish!" she snapped back. "This may be the only way to bring you back!"

"You ain't paying some stupid blood price when I already bled all over his damn mountain," he said hotly, gesturing with a thumb towards the old man, who sat watching their exchange in silence. "If a blood price is what it takes, he already got one from _me_ ten times over."

"Indeed," said the old man, startling both of them. Ranma and Akane turned towards him as he slowly got to his feet, brushing the soil off his hands against his coarse robe, giving them a glimpse of his long, sharp nails. He looked at Ranma and smiled, pointed white teeth glinting. "Infant kuei..."

Ranma bristled instinctively against the insolent name, and clenched his teeth. "Hey..."

"You speak the truth," the old man finished.

That sent Ranma's anger into a tailspin. His jaw sagged as he and Akane exchanged a surprised, hopeful glance. "I... I do?" he asked, looking back at the old man who, now that he was standing, was a lot larger than he first seemed. Ranma had to look up to meet his disturbing, gleaming black eyes. "I paid the blood price?"

The old man nodded. "Your blood has fed my mountain, seeped into its soil. Your dying breath stirred the dust on my holy ground." His black, bottomless gaze fixed on Ranma's face. "The price is paid," he said quietly. "What would you have of me, infant kuei?"

Ranma twitched. "Well, you can stop calling me that, for one thing!" he said... and as his thoughts caught up with his mouth a moment later, he mentally kicked himself, even as he heard Akane's dismayed cry of "Ranma!"

"So." The old man tilted his head slightly. "You wish to be released from your eternal curse?"

Ranma blinked, taken aback. "Uh... y-yeah," he stuttered, even as he caught Akane's panicked expression -- an expression that said she thought he was about to screw up their only chance of getting out of this mess together. "I mean, no!" he amended. "I mean..." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. _Jeeze, get a grip, Saotome, this is it_.

He opened his eyes and met the old man's gaze with resolve. "I want you to bring me back to life. That's my request."

The old man stared at him for a long moment.

"Back to life?" he said at last.

Ranma nodded sharply. "Right. Back to life. See? My body's right there." He pointed back to where Akane had rested his lifeless body on the grass. "So just... do whatever you all-powerful dragons do, and put me back."

The old man's black eyes widened in surprise. "You are serious?" Then he laughed; only this time, it was a soft, rueful chuckle.

"What's wrong?" Akane asked pensively. "You... you can help us, right?"

The old man looked at her seriously. "I cannot."

"Augh," Ranma snarled, clenching his bloody fists in frustration. "You can't or you won't? Don't jerk me around, old man! I paid your stupid blood price, now keep your end of the bargain!"

The old man raised a thin, gray eyebrow at him. "Old I may be... but 'all powerful' I am not. I am a dragon, the guardian of the Celestial Realms. I maintain the pillars that support the home of the gods. Many things are within my power. But the spark of life, once extinguished by the infinite dark, is not so easily rekindled, even by one such as I."

Ranma heard Akane's sharp, shuddering intake of breath beside him. He didn't dare look at her, not with the dread he felt showing so clearly on his face. It was something he hadn't truly dared contemplate until this moment. That the Ancient One wouldn't be able to help them. That he was well and truly dead. That he had finally encountered the one opponent that he could not eventually defeat.

Ranma closed his eyes, as if in pain, though, as usual, he couldn't feel a thing. This... couldn't be. Not after everything they had been through.

When he opened his eyes, they were slits of blue fire as he stared up at the old man before him. "You're full of crap, old man," he said in a low, tight voice that almost hid his fear. "You... you gotta bring me back to life. You let me onto your mountain, but didn't let any of my friends come with me. You didn't help me when I was dying on your damn doorstep. Now I don't care if you have to pull in favors from all those gods you say you're protecting. But you are going to bring me back to life, and you're going to do it now."

"Infant kuei," the old man said with a sigh. "You speak of the gift of life so lightly. You, a departed spirit, who should know better than any living creature just how precious and fragile life is. How, when Death comes, his touch is incontrovertible and irrevocable. So much so, that the power to restore the spark of life is not given to all the gods."

"Not all," said Akane, grasping desperately at the qualifier. "But some, right? There are some gods that can do it?"

The dragon sighed. "Once there was a woman," he said quietly, "who lost her only son to a swift, deadly illness. Grief-stricken, and unwilling to bear the loss, the woman sought for Xi Wang Mu, the Queen Mother of the West, so that she might plead with him to restore her son to her."

Ranma frowned. "Oh great. Why do I get the feeling I ain't gonna like this story?" He glanced at Akane and saw the same sentiment written on her features.

"The woman knew the legends of the Queen Mother of the West," the old man continued, as if there had been no interruption, "and knew that Xi Wang Mu possessed an elixir of immortality, made from the peaches in her sacred garden that ripened only once every ten thousand years. So, taking only a little food and clothing, she traveled many days to reach the Crown of the World, where the gods dwelled for many years before ascending to the sky. There, by the great Lake Yaochi, she found Xi Wang Mu tending to the lotus flowers. Falling at her feet, in grief and exhaustion, she told Xi Wang Mu of her dead son, and begged her to restore him to life.

"Xi Wang Mu was impressed by the love and devotion this mother had for her son, but told her that her elixir could only grant immortality to the living, not restore the life to the dead. At this, the woman wept greatly. Xi Wang Mu took pity on her then, and told her to go to each house in her village, and speak with each family. 'If you can find one person who has not been touched by the death of a loved-one,' she told her gently, 'I will bring your son back to life.'

"So the woman did as the Queen Mother of the West asked, and returned to her village, going from door to door, asking each person she met, 'Has Death taken a loved-one from you?' She went to every last house, and put her question to every individual, from adult to child. Wherever she went, she was met with a sad-eyed, solemn 'Yes.' And with each affirmative answer, there was a story to be told, with smiles and tears, of the husband or wife, parent or child, brother or sister, who had been taken by the cold touch of the Ghosts of Impermanence.

"And after she had listened to each story, and received her last answer, the woman despaired, for she knew then that there was no soul on earth who had not been touched by death in some manner. And yet, the knowledge also brought her comfort, for she understood at last that death is no respecter of persons, and comes to all, male and female, old and young, bond and free."

The old man fell silent.

Ranma blinked. "... That's it?!" he yelled.

The old man looked at Akane. "That," he said, "is the answer to your question."

Akane's eyes filled with tears. Inside, she was trembling and angry. She wanted to kick the old bastard, and would have, if she thought it might have done any good. "So... after everything," she whispered, "we're just supposed to... to accept this?"

Ranma eyes widened, and he clenched his fists. He didn't want to believe that. And yet, his hand went almost instinctively to his bleeding stomach to feel the ghostly wound there, and he shuddered at the memory of Yin Wu Ch'ang Kuei's phantom hand entering his body as his life was swallowed by an deep, icy darkness...

This was it, then, he realized with a cold, sinking finality. The Ancient One couldn't help him. He was dead, and there was no coming back. It was over.

Akane was going to have to leave the mountain without him.

He didn't want her to leave. It was selfish to feel that way, he knew, but the thought of being trapped for an eternity on this mountain, alone, terrified him. And the thought of being separated from her again... forever... was agony.

But she couldn't stay here with him. He couldn't do that to her. What kind of life could she have in the company of a gruesome ghost? She deserved a real man, of warmth and flesh. Not some bloody specter desperately trying to cling to the last vestiges of his vanished life...

She would probably want to take his corpse with her, for burial, he mused grimly. Something to remember him by...

He finally glanced at Akane then, and saw the tears in her eyes, the shock, anger and grief filling her face as she looked at him.

"Akane," he whispered anxiously, helplessly, the look on her face filling him with a terrible, trembling ache. "Don't cry..." He wanted so badly to put his arms around her. "Don't cry..."

She gave a short, violent shake of her head, unable to speak, and silently mouthed "sorry" as the tears slipped down her cheeks.

The sight of her tears was too much. Ranma turned on the dragon angrily, choking on the burning in his throat, in his eyes. He reached out violently for the front of the old man's robe, but his fingers passed through ineffectually. "Dammit!" he cried. "Old man... you _have_ to help us!"

The old man shook his head somberly. "I cannot."

"Please" Akane pleaded hoarsely, wretched in her anguish. Ranma looked back at her, and watched in dismay as she knelt and bowed until she was almost prostrate, in the most humble supplicating posture before the old man. She touched her forehead to the ground, her long dark hair threading amidst the trimmed grass. "There... there has to be something you can do," she said, her voice muffled and broken. "Please... I... I can't lose him. Not now... not this way..."

Ranma looked at her, the terrible ache filling him to the point where it almost sent him to his knees. "Akane..."

"Maybe... maybe my life," she whispered.

Ranma's eyes widened. "No!" he immediately protested.

"Maybe... you can use some of it," she continued. "Give some to him..." She looked up at the old man, tears streaking her face. "Anything, I'll do anything..."

The old man's piercing eyes were clouded as he looked at the two of them; his smile long vanished from his ancient face, replaced with an expression that was almost unreadable.

"Daughter of fire and ice," he whispered. "Your devotion to this departed one is admirable. But the spark of life is different and separate from the living ki it creates. The spark that connects the spirit to the body is rare and unique for each mortal. It is not something that can be shared, or simply rekindled on a whim."

"Then what _can_ you do, old man?" Ranma shouted. "You said yourself that I paid your blood price! You owe me _something!_"

"I can remove from you the kuei curse that keeps you trapped on this mountain in the image of your dead flesh," the old man replied softly, his black eyes gleaming.

Ranma blinked, taken aback. The old guy could remove his kuei curse? _Good, but not enough,_ he was going to say...

"Ranma."

He looked over to where Akane knelt on the grass, and saw her wet eyes growing wide with a desperate hope as she looked at him. "If he... if he removed your curse... if you weren't trapped here any more..."

Ranma closed his eyes, knowing what she was going to say. "Akane..."

"You could come with me," she said tearfully. "We... could still go home together."

Ranma sighed, and turned to her in helpless anger. "Dammit, Akane, you know I can't do that."

"Why not?" she shouted, getting abruptly to her feet. "It's better than nothing! It's better than losing you forever! Do you _want_ me to leave without you?"

"Of course not!" Ranma shouted back. "But you can't live the rest of your life with a ghost! What kind of life is that?"

"Young ones," the old man interrupted, raising one long-nailed hand in a gesture for silence. When Ranma and Akane looked at him, his expression was solemn. "I am afraid that is not possible," the old man said, the rushing sound behind his voice a soft murmur.

Akane's eyes narrowed. "What's not possible?" she asked.

The old man regarded her with regret. "Once his soul is released from the curse, he can no longer remain in the mortal realm. He will be sent to the proper realm of jurisdiction, under your gods. There, he will either meet with his ancestors in the eternities, or be caught by the wind of reincarnation on the banks of the river of death. Either way... you will not see him again in this life."

Ranma and Akane absorbed that information, silent and stricken.

Akane was numb. She felt exhausted, boneless. She didn't even think she could cry any more.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. When you fought so hard for something, you were supposed to win. You were supposed to come out on top. Not lose everything, and all hope in an instant...

And then, something the Ancient One said penetrated through the numbing fog of grief in her mind...

She looked up, realization flickering across her tear-stained face. "Our... gods..." she whispered.

Ranma glanced at her. "What?"

Akane didn't answer. She was remembering her journey through the Kami Plane. Two and a half years, following any lead she could find, to a deity powerful enough to break the blood spell...

She looked at the dragon. "Your gods might not be able or willing to help us, but..." She turned to Ranma in her growing excitement. "Emma-o," she said breathlessly. "The Judge and Lord of the Dead. I never met him, because he doesn't live in the Kami Plane. He lives in the realm of the Dead -- which is where you'll go if you get the kuei curse removed."

Ranma looked at her doubtfully. New hope burned in his chest at the thought that not all options were completely closed to him, but he didn't dare show his eagerness just yet. "You think he could..."

"You would have more luck seeking help from a stone," the old man said bluntly, jarring the two from their sudden hopeful euphoria. He looked at each of them in turn, the light within his black eyes glittering intensely. "Emma-o is known throughout the pantheons as a ruthless and unforgiving judge," he said reproachfully. "Only those who require punishment are brought before him. To seek him out willingly is madness."

Ranma was instantly in the old man's face, his nose scant millimeters from the old man's as he glared into the glittering void of his eyes. "Yeah," Ranma said, his voice quiet and intense, "but could he do it? Is he one of the gods who can reignite the spark of life? Could he really bring me back from the dead?"

The old man stared at Ranma silently. Ranma met his black gaze, determined and unflinching. Only the awareness of his own incorporeal form kept him from reaching up and grabbing the old man by the front of his robe, then shaking him until he answered.

"He could..." the old man said at last, reluctantly. "But he won't."

Ranma looked back at Akane and saw his own ecstatic expression reflected back at him in her face. A faint, improbable hope was better than none. He turned back to the old man, a familiar gleam of a challenge lighting his eyes. "I'll take that chance," he said with a small grin. Finally, he felt like he was back on solid footing, with a solid goal before him. "'Cause if he can do it, I'm gonna find him and make him send me back."

"Fool," the old man groaned, frustration creasing his face and making him appear even older. "If you go before Emma-o unsummoned, you risk the hells, or worse."

"The... hells?" At the hesitant sound of her voice, Ranma turned to Akane to see all of the enthusiasm drain out of her, to be replaced by fear.

"Aw, Akane, don't worry about that." Ranma grinned. "I'll be diplomatic."

"No," Akane said with a shake of her head. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea. If you go before Emma-o, and... and something happens..."

"Akane, nothing's gonna happen--"

"You don't know that!" she snapped. "Look at us! Look at _you!_" She gestured sharply at his bloody, ghostly form with one hand. "Did you plan on this? Has _anything_ turned out like we wanted it to so far?"

Ranma frowned. "Okay, so maybe things haven't gone quite like we planned! Do you want to just give up now? You just want me to wander off into the afterlife without a fight, when there's a chance this could work?"

"Better that, than having you end up in one of the hells forever," she yelled.

Ranma looked at her incredulously. "I can't believe you're saying that. You want to give up just because of the off-chance that this Emma-o guy might be in a bad mood? You were all excited about the idea just a second ago."

"I... I was grasping at straws, I was scared, and I forgot..." Akane closed her eyes, struggling to regain her composure. "You don't know these gods like I do. They banished one of their own to the hells just because he tried to help me escape the Kami plane." _Or at least, they tried_, she thought, remembering Susa-no-o wearing Hoso-no-kami's skin. And then another realization struck her, like an icy fist to her gut. "If Emma-o is in charge of the hells," she said hoarsely, "he... he must be on the Council..."

"He is." The old man nodded slightly in affirmation.

Akane went pale.

"What?" Ranma looked back and forth between the two. "What's the 'Council?'"

"A fickle assembly of Japanese deities," the old man replied with no small amount of condescension, "ruled more by whim and politics than by logic and compassion."

Akane didn't like the old man's tone, but she couldn't exactly disagree. She wanted to say that Susa-no-o wasn't like that... but then, he wasn't on the Council.

Ranma scowled. "Look, Council or no Council, I'm going to face Emma-o and get my life back."

Akane's face clouded over with fear and anger, and her brown eyes glistened. "But... if you don't come back..."

"I _will_ come back," he insisted. She opened her mouth to protest again, but he silenced her by reaching out. He stopped just short of touching her cheek with his bloodied, intangible hand. He ached to brush his fingers against her skin, but he held himself just scant millimeters away, then leaned forward to whisper into her ear.

"I promise," he said softly. "I won't be satisfied with death. If it means risking the hells... then I will risk the hells to come back to you."

Akane's eyes widened, then shimmered as she pressed the fingers of both hands to her lips. "Oh, Ranma..." He was being an idiot. But that was by far the most romantic thing he had ever said to her. His words, and the look in his blue eyes set her skin to tingling; her blood rushing. And, for a moment, she believed him.

The old man sighed. "It is foolish to make promises you can't keep, boy."

Ranma scowled at the old man. "You keep out of this." He turned back to face Akane, and the look on her face made him want to melt. "Do you trust me?"

Akane looked into his face. She looked past his gray-skinned, blood-flecked features, and into his blue eyes that were still bright and alive -- the only part of him that, as yet, remained untouched by his kuei curse. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to believe he could do anything. Even face down Emma-o. Even come back from the dead.

"I do," she said, though she feared it was a lie. "I know you'll come back. Because if you don't..." She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "Then I'll track you down no matter what plane of existence you're in, and find out the reason why, Ranma Saotome."

Ranma pulled back and looked at her in blinking surprise. Then he grinned.

"Fools," the old man muttered again.

"Nobody's askin' for your opinion," Ranma said irritably. "You just do your dragon thingy and lift this curse like you said you would."

The old man's eyes flashed in his expressionless face. "As you wish then," he said quietly, and he closed his eyes.

Akane's eyes widened in alarm as the old man raised his arms. "Wait," she said, because it was too soon--

The old man exploded in a flash of silver and green, and Akane cried out and shielded her face with her arms as a tremendous wind thrashed around her. The valley screamed with the sudden surge of power, as if resentful of having its peace broken. The flowers and willow trees near the pond whipped about violently, spilling their leaves and petals out onto the tempest the tranquil water had become...

Ranma instinctively shielded his face with his arms against the onslaught, until he realized he couldn't feel anything. He uncovered his face and looked up...

...and up, and up...

Ranma swallowed hard, and idly wondered if it had been such a great idea to smart off to the old man... er... dragon...

The wind died abruptly, and in its absence, the trees and water became almost instantly still. Beside him, he heard Akane's small gasp as she followed his gaze.

The Ancient One filled the sky, his massive sea-green-scaled body coiling in a tangle of gleaming, chaotic loops. The dragon's forelegs and hind legs were almost lost amidst the coils, but for the five long ebony claws that adorned each foot. Blood-red eyes, each the size of a house, gazed down at the two gaping, minuscule humans from within a huge, silver-maned head.

The dragon dipped his gargantuan head gracefully from the sky, sliding silently through the air until he faced Ranma directly.

Ranma forced himself not to step back in the face of this mythic beast that made the eight-headed serpent from Ryuganzawa look like a regular garden snake.

"_Infant kuei_," the dragon breathed, and his breath shimmered hot and gold, like liquid fire.

Ranma gasped, wide-eyed, as he felt the dragon's breath pass through him. He couldn't move. He stood, immobile, his limbs outstretched as if caught in mid-convulse. The Ancient One's breath burned through him, devouring the cold numbness that had engulfed him since his death...

"Wait," he heard Akane cry, but her voice seemed so distant. He wanted to turn to her, to tell her it was okay, but he couldn't move, couldn't speak as the fire burned through him...

"Wait, please...!"

"_I remove your curse from you._" Another breath; searing white gold. Ranma bit back a scream; but not of pain, not of joy. Just a scream, for the sake of feeling; but by his will, it emerged silent from his lips...

"Please..." Ranma couldn't tell if Akane was talking to him, or to the dragon. "Please, just let me say goodbye..."

And he could feel the wound close inside him, could no longer taste the blood in his mouth...

"_Go, now, to your place of eternal rest._"

The liquid fire bled from his limbs, out his fingers and the soles of his feet, and suddenly he could move again. He turned to Akane, even as it seemed that he was moving away from her... "Akane..." he called, and his own voice was loud in his ears.

He was moving without moving, and she was running after him, her hands outstretched. But even as she ran towards him, she seemed to fade away from before his eyes, as if a thick veil of mist had risen between them. "Ranma," she called, her voice dwindling. "Ranma, I love you..."

"Akane!" He tried to move towards her but the gesture meant nothing as the mists thickened before him. "I'll come back, I swear..."

And then, he heard the sound of rushing water behind him, and he turned...

Akane cried out as Ranma vanished from her view, disappearing into the river of stars. She called after him, once... twice...

No answer.

"_He is gone_," the Ancient One said, his soft, rushing voice filling the sky.

As if she needed him to tell her that. She knew that Ranma was gone. The whole feel of him was gone, and she only then realized that, until that moment, she had been filled with the comforting sense of Ranma's presence...

It was gone.

"You bastard." Akane glared up at him with wet, stinging eyes. "I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye."

The dragon slid towards her in the air, blinking his huge, scarlet eyes at her. "_There are many mortals in this world_," he murmured, "_who would give up everything they own for the opportunity to be with their departed loved ones that you have had this night_."

Akane looked at the ground, shame burning her throat. The Ancient One was right. She should be grateful that she had the chance to see Ranma; to speak with him. If it weren't for his kuei curse... she would have been alone on the mountain. Her search would have ended when she discovered his cooling corpse on the bloody mountain path...

Almost automatically, her gaze was drawn to where Ranma's body lay on the grass, not far from the pearl and silk-lined entrance to the cave below. Slowly, she walked over to it, knelt next to it, looked into the pale, lifeless face...

...and felt nothing. She shivered. How could she have ever thought this empty shell was Ranma? Everything that was Ranma was gone.

"Where is he?" she whispered.

She felt rather than saw the Ancient One ripple his coils through the night sky above her. "_He now stands on the banks of the river of death. Two paths are open before him. The path he chooses will determine whether or not you will be with him again in the next world._"

Akane closed her eyes and clenched her fists. "I'll be with him in _this_ world," she said. She tried to sound defiant, but it came out sounding hopelessly weary. "He promised."

The Ancient One was silent.

Slowly, carefully, Akane reached out and pulled Ranma's body to her, cradling it in her arms once again.

It was time to leave. There were people waiting for her at the base of the mountain, she knew. Nabiki, and her friends. They had come on this insane expedition to help Ranma save her. It seemed almost strange to think of them now, after finding Ranma, and then losing him again.

"_There are those waiting for you_," the Ancient One said, as if knowing her thoughts. "_I will send you to them._"

She looked down at Ranma's cold, slack face. "How in the world," she wondered aloud, "am I going to explain this to them?"

The only answer she received was a blast of wind that suddenly engulfed her in a small cyclone, lifting her long hair to the sky in the updraft, and she clutched Ranma's body to her chest, squinting against the wind...

...and then she was in a clearing, surrounded by a thick, dark forest. A campfire crackled in the middle of the clearing. She blinked a little, her eyes tearing from the wind even as it abruptly died, plunging her into a deep, oppressive silence. She looked around...

...and saw Ukyo, bound to a tree, a gag wrapped tightly around her head. Mousse, in duck form, and... P-Chan?... tied up and dangling upside down from the branches of a tree. Cologne, sitting near the fire.

Staring at her. They were all staring at her. And the body in her arms.

Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Nobody made a sound.

Except Akane.

"Excuse me," she said, taking a deep breath that was almost calm. "What the hell is going on here?"

--------------------

End of Part Twenty-Three


	25. Phoenix

------------------

The voice of the Ancient One filled Ranma's mind, quiet, and yet infinitely commanding.

"_Go, now, to your place of eternal rest._"

The liquid fire bled from his limbs, out his fingers and the soles of his feet, and suddenly he could move again. He turned to Akane, even as it seemed that he was moving away from her... "Akane..." he called, and his own voice was loud in his ears.

He was moving without moving, and she was running after him, her hands outstretched. But even as she ran towards him, she seemed to fade away from before his eyes, as if a thick veil of mist had risen between them. "Ranma," she called, her voice dwindling. "Ranma, I love you..."

"Akane!" He tried to move towards her but the gesture meant nothing as the mists thickened before him. "I'll come back, I swear..."

And then, he heard the sound of rushing water behind him, and he turned...

...and saw nothing but shimmering pale blue, filling his entire field of vision so that he saw nothing else, even when he turned back the way he had come. All around him, above him, beneath him, as far as he could see. Pale, shimmering blue, like a washed-out desert sky.

"Where--" he said, and then choked as his mouth filled with water. It was only then that he felt the cool, wet pressure of it against his skin and his open eyes; felt the mild currents flowing around him, lifting and tugging at his clothes and his dark hair.

Several realizations struck him at once. He was under water. Under water, and he could _feel_ it, and it was wonderful, after the near-complete sensory deprivation he had just experienced during his brief stint as a hungry ghost on the Ancient One's mountain.

Another realization. He was under water -- cold water at that -- and he was still male.

Also -- and this was on the rather negative side of things -- his lungs were starting to burn from lack of air.

Some rational part of him that wasn't buried under the sudden flare of panic that gripped him wondered how he could drown if he was already dead. But if he was dead, he was dead in a place where he felt incredibly, vibrantly alive with the restoration of his sense of touch, as well as the apparent need to breathe, and if the dead could die twice, he didn't want to wait around to find out.

He began swimming instinctively upwards, though there was no way to tell if all this water that he found himself submerged in even had a surface to reach. The water looked the same in all directions; pale blue, no distinguishing light or shadow to let him know if he was swimming in the right direction. His single, surprised exclamation had not even created any air bubbles for him to follow to safety.

_Maybe the dragon screwed up,_ he thought with a mixture of annoyance and fear. That was the way his life, and death, went, apparently. One big screw-up after another. _I was supposed to go to the Japanese afterlife, but instead I ended up in some crazy water dimension._

His swimming became more frantic and determined as the burning in his lungs increased. He cursed mentally, thinking about how, less than five minutes ago, he hadn't been able to breathe even if he'd wanted to. That particular nuisance would have been a blessing in this current circumstance. On top of that, he was just getting used to not needing to breathe! It wasn't fair to change the rules on him like this, dammit!

His lungs were on fire, the strength was leaching from his limbs, and his fingertips were turning blue when he finally saw a wavering light far above him. Or maybe it was just an illusion; a hallucination caused by the lack of oxygen to his brain. He didn't know, didn't care. Spurred on by the sight, he pumped his legs furiously and felt a twinge of relief when the light seemed to grow closer through his effort. And then he could actually see bright sunlight filtering down through the water, see it rippling across the surface, and he pushed himself for it. After an infinite moment, his fingers straining upwards, he broke through the surface into crisp, clean air that he eagerly took into his aching lungs with a heaving gasp. Before his weight could pull him back down, he kicked his legs to keep his head above water...

... and felt his bare feet touch down on something soft and silty, that pushed between his toes, and yet stopped him from sinking further.

Ranma, still gratefully gulping air, blinked in surprise and looked down. The crystal clear water only came up to his mid-torso. Below the surface of the water, he could see that he was standing on a bed of gray sand that sifted and swirled around his feet with the current.

"...the hell?" he said, thoroughly confused and irritated at this point.

"Oh, you don't want to go there," said a voice, and he looked up, startled, to see a young woman, wearing a deep red summer kimono with an intricate pattern of green leaves, kneeling, poised and graceful, on the nearby grassy bank. She smiled at him, and he saw that she wasn't as young as he first thought, for there were laugh wrinkles at the corners of her dark, glittering eyes.

"Who are you?" Ranma asked.

"Just a dead soul, like yourself," she answered casually. "I'm waiting for reincarnation."

Ranma took that in. "So..." he said slowly. "This _is_ the afterlife?"

"Yes," she answered patiently, as though she had dealt with this sort of thing before. "You're dead. Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

"It's not that." Ranma had had plenty of time to get used to the idea of being dead, and he didn't want this woman to think he was some sort of novice or anything. "I just thought I might have gotten lost on the way here or something." Now it was the woman's turn to blink in surprise. "I came from China, see," he explained. "And I didn't think that almost drowning was part of getting here," he added irritably. "Is that the way everyone gets here? They die, and suddenly find themselves several hundred meters under water?" Ranma didn't know if it really was that far, but it had felt like it.

The woman was looking at him oddly. "You almost drowned?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as if she didn't quite believe him. "I was wondering why you made such a big production, coming out of the river like that, gasping like a fish out of water."

Ranma frowned. "So it wasn't like that for you?"

She shook her head. "I was only under for a few moments. Just long enough to realize that I was dead, and that the surface of the river was just above me."

Ranma had a million questions then, but was struck with a sudden morbid curiosity. "So... how did you die?" he said carefully, hoping it wasn't some sort of taboo question.

But she just shrugged. "Car accident," she said. "I was on my way to a festival. Found out too late that it's best not to drive a stick shift wearing a tight-wrapped yukata and wooden sandals."

Ranma blinked, not knowing what to say to that. He was about to ask how long she had been sitting there waiting for reincarnation, when suddenly the river bed seemed to shift under his feet, and a strong current took hold of him, pushing him a full meter downstream so fast that he nearly lost his balance and plunged all the way under the water again. "Whoa!" he yelled, and he struggled against it, trying to wade for the bank where the lady was sitting, but the more he struggled, the stronger the current became. "What the hell is this?"

"Don't fight it," the woman called out to him. "It's okay, this happens to everyone. Once the river has you, it will send you where you are supposed to be."

Ranma didn't like the sound of that. He wasn't sure where he was supposed to be, but he knew where he wanted to be. He had to find Emma-o, the Lord of the Hells. He twisted in the water, trying to see where the river was pushing him.

His eyes widened as he got a good look at the river for the first time. He hadn't realized that it was so... huge.

And that he was not alone in its waters.

The river looked to be nearly a mile wide. And it was full of people. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people. The more he looked, the more he gradually became aware of them, their forms slowly appearing before his eyes. Old people, middle-aged, teenagers, children... even a few infants floated gently on the surface of the water. Ranma stared at them all in amazement. And yet, he noticed that only a few were looking around at the others, like he was. Most seemed completely unaware that they were not alone in the vast river, just like he had been moments before, even as they were being pulled along by the same swift current that he was caught in.

As he watched, feeling the current drag him down river, several more people broke through the surface of the water, looking a bit dazed, and perhaps even a bit frightened as they looked around at their new surroundings... and yet their eyes passed blindly over their fellow deceased.

"You don't see it all at once," he heard the woman say, far off to his side. She had stood, and was following him as the river swept him along. "It's too much to take in. And then, you see only if you're looking closely." She paused. "You're seeing a lot, I can tell by the look on your face."

Ranma could only nod.

He could see that the river downstream forked three ways.

The right fork, near the bank that he was closest to, wound off into the distance, and he could see lush fields, and forested mountains. And, as he looked closer, he thought he could see houses, their gleaming tiled rooftops peaking through endless groves of cherry trees, reflecting the sunlight, and people waiting on the banks of the river, helping others out, greeting them with smiles and hugs...

It looked... nice. Warm. Welcoming. Like family. Ranma felt his heart twist inside his chest, and he forced himself to look away. He couldn't allow himself to get distracted...

As he forced his gaze elsewhere, he noticed that other people were washed up onto the bank before they reached the forks in the river. Those, like the woman, who were to be reincarnated, he guessed.

The middle fork was hard to see. It was obscured by mists, and when Ranma tried to look at it closely, it didn't seem to be there at all, which puzzled the hell out of him. It was like an optical illusion, something he could only see when he wasn't paying attention to it directly, and it immediately aroused his suspicions. Was that where he needed to go to find Emma-o?

"Where does that middle fork go?" he asked the woman.

"Middle fork?" The woman sounded surprised.

So, she couldn't see it. That meant that it was a pretty decent bet that she didn't know where it led, either. "Never mind," he said, and he looked out across the river again, wondering if there was a way to maneuver himself to that middle fork...

But, as his gaze slowly raked past the masses of human souls caught in the river... he could suddenly hear voices. The voices floated to him across the surface of the water, snatches of solitary conversation, faint and eerie...

"...dead? I'm dead? But I was just..."

"...at last, finally, I waited so..."

"...god, oh god, I'm sorry, I didn't want..."

The faint garble of voices washed over Ranma like a wave, far colder than the river itself. So much confusion, relief, uncertainty, fear...

"...mama? Mama? Where..."

"...ooo! Nooooooooo! Help, someone, I..."

His head jerked towards the sound of that last terrified voice...

The left fork.

For a moment, he couldn't see it. It was even worse than trying to look at the middle fork. His eyes kept skipping past it, almost instinctively, because each time he almost saw it, a feeling of immense dread twisted his insides. But then, he grit his teeth, and forced himself to stare, unblinking, until it slowly came into view...

One look at it, and Ranma knew that it was where he needed to go. The water streaming into that left fork ran thick and blackish-red, like an open, clotting wound. The people caught in its current clawed futilely at the bloody water as they tried to escape its grip, their eyes wide, or clenched shut, their faces tight masks of terror. In the distance, the sky was as black as tar, and as Ranma listened carefully, he became aware of a thin, high sound that drifted from that starless void. Faint, but it chilled him to the core all the same.

That wasn't... screaming, was it?

"Like I said." The woman following him on the river bank spoke again, and her voice was grim as her gaze followed his. "You don't want to go there." She sighed. "Lucky for you, it looks like you're headed for your ancestors. I mean, life's great and all, but I personally am not too thrilled about having to live it all over again..."

But Ranma didn't tear his eyes away from the left fork. "I gotta get over there somehow." And he began to struggle against the pushing force of the river, forcing his legs to move against the water pressure.

The river, sensing his struggle, fought back. Ranma found himself suddenly in the midst of his own personal rapids. The water frothed and churned with the sudden force of several tons of water rushing around Ranma's body, pushing him towards his eternal destination whether he liked it or not. He strained with all his strength to stand, but the current was too much for him. His feet were swept out from beneath him, and for a moment, he went under. Immediately, the waters calmed, and Ranma stood again, spluttering and angry as he felt the current once again pulling him steadily downstream. "Damn it," he shouted. "Leave me alone! I'll go where I damn well want to!"

The woman was staring at him, mouth agape. "What are you doing?" she asked.

He ignored her, his eyes narrowed and calculating as he looked around. There had to be a way to escape the river's current. Any move he made in any direction other than the way the current ran made the river react violently. He looked across the river, where thousands of other human souls drifted inexorably towards their fate...

He blinked. And grinned.

The woman's eyes narrowed, but he didn't see. "What are you doing?" she asked again.

He didn't answer. Instead, he took a deep breath and ducked under the surface of the water, curling himself into a crouch. He opened his eyes in the clear water, waiting , letting the current drag him along the bottom of the river bed...

...and then, he jumped.

The woman stared as Ranma burst from the river like a trained dolphin. He flipped at the top of his arc, and landed, feet first, on the top of a man's head.

The startled man, who was apparently on his way to meet his ancestors according to the direction his current was pushing him, didn't even have a chance to react, for Ranma had already leapt to the next head, and the next...

The river did nothing, could apparently do nothing, Ranma noticed, as he gleefully head-hopped his way across the river. "'Scuse me! Comin' through! Whoops, sorry ma'am, you looked like a guy from the back."

The woman in the red kimono yelled after him. "Wait! Where do you think you're going?"

"Where does it look like?" he called back. "I'm going to Hell!"

The woman stared after him, wide-eyed. Indeed, he was making great progress across the river, jumping from the head of one astonished dead person to the next, until finally he reached the black-red waters that bled into the left fork. At that point, though, the people caught in the river's current were not docilely allowing themselves to be swept along. They were struggling frantically to get away, and the river was fighting back, often dragging them under the thick, slimy waters until their struggles ceased.

Ranma stepped on one river-slick head, and slipped.

_splash_

He went under. The river had him again... and it was furious. There would be no reprieve or escape for him this time, and the woman saw a brief flicker of panic cross Ranma's face as the raging red waters dragged him under...

The woman held her breath, her eyes scanning the far bank's violently turbulent waters. The moments ticked by with terrible slowness.

Finally, Ranma resurfaced at the mouth of the left fork. He looked bedraggled and afraid as he looked around, bloody water streaming from his hair and down his face... but then he saw where he was. The river had apparently decided to grant his wish after his display of utter disrespect for its laws. He was on his way to Hell.

And he was grinning in triumph.

The woman slowly passed a hand over her eyes. "Ranma," she groaned. "You idiot."

-------------------------

Hearts of Ice

Part 24: Phoenix

by Krista Fisk

-------------------------

Ukyo glared sullenly at Cologne as the old, wounded Amazon threw another log onto the campfire, sending glowing red embers floating up into the night sky. The glare went unnoticed. Cologne didn't even glance in her direction as she settled down next to the fire once more, smoothing the pale lavender fur of the unconscious cat nestled in the crook of her good arm with one withered, blood-stained hand.

The revived blaze roared, crackling and hissing, breaking into the deep, smothering silence that had settled over the clearing ever since Ryoga's heart-wrenching sobs had finally subsided a short while ago.

At the thought of him, Ukyo looked up, her eyes drawn unwillingly to where a black piglet and a white duck dangled, trussed up with nylon tent cord, from the branches of the same tree to which she herself was tied. Mousse was silent and despondent as usual. And Ryoga...

Though his weeping had ceased, the piglet still shook with the occasional shuddering tremor. His eyes were heavy-lidded with despair as he stared at the ground, unseeing. Ukyo quickly looked away, a sharp pang of sympathy banishing whatever remaining traces of anger she had felt towards him for hiding his curse.

She couldn't blame him, really, now that, with her memories of Akane restored, she understood the truth.

She had felt guiltily relieved when the tiny piglet's weeping had ceased, almost grateful of the unnerving silence that came after. Ryoga's all-too-audible grief at rediscovering his memories of Akane had resonated within her, though she had shed no tears.

She was too tired to cry. Too tired, and too uncomfortable, with a foul rag stuffed in her mouth, her legs bound, and her arms tied behind her to the rough bark of a tree.

With a muffled sigh, Ukyo shifted her attention away from the fire and looked down at her legs, wriggling as much as her bonds would allow her, trying to restore some feeling into her numb rear-end... then sighed at the futility of it. She had lost track of how long she had been sitting there, tied up helplessly, waiting. Hours, it seemed, though she couldn't be sure, because time seemed to be crawling by. And she spent each dragging moment with nothing to do except feel her own discomfort, stare into the campfire, and wonder why the hell it was taking Ranma so long to come down from that stupid mountain and rescue her.

But then, of course, she knew. Akane was back, after all. And Akane loved Ranma, and he loved her, and everyone and their bloody dog knew it now, and it really didn't take a genius to figure out what two newly-reunited lovers, blissfully unaware of their friends' plight below, would spend the rest of the night doing. Ukyo had been counting on their mutual shyness, though, to at least get the two of them down the mountain in a more timely manner before things got too hot and heavy. She had pegged Akane for sure as being one to wait until after the wedding. It figured that they would both choose such an inopportune time to throw away their prudishness.

She hoped that, when Ranma and Akane finally managed to drag their love-sick selves back to the campsite and discovered what had happened in their absence, they felt good and guilty for taking their sweet time.

It was a terrible, unworthy thought, she knew. But dammit, she was tired and miserable, and if she chose to indulge in a bit of self-pity, it was well-earned. She had lost, after all, though now it was painfully clear that she'd never had much chance of winning the big fiancée competition in the first place. She had come out here to selflessly support Ranma on his quest to find true love, when she was standing right there the whole time. And now he and Akane were busy getting it on, while the only intimacy she shared at the moment was with the gnarly tree at her back that was chafing her arms, all while a crazy Amazon held her hostage. _Terribly sorry if my charity is running a wee bit thin,_ she thought glumly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cologne tense suddenly, straightening in her seat by the fire. Ukyo looked up to see that the old ghoul was no longer staring into the flames... but at the far side of the clearing, where a small whirlwind was forming in the dust.

Ukyo blinked. _What now?_ she wondered, a small knot of fear forming in her stomach. There was nothing natural about that whirlwind, appearing out of the stillness that surrounded the mountain. Her heart began pounding; she could feel it thudding in her throat as the silence was suddenly pierced by the wailing of the wind as the strange dust devil grew in strength with swift, wild fury.

Above her, hanging from the trees, she could hear Ryoga and Mousse stir in their bonds. Ryoga gave a small squeal of apprehension as the whirlwind expanded in height and width. Finally, she could distinguish a dark shape forming in the midst of the small cyclone. A dark, human shape, carrying another human shape in its arms.

And Cologne, she noticed, watched the figures within the whirlwind with tense expectation, unmoving from her spot by the fire. Which is when it dawned on her.

Ranma was back.

It had to be him. Finally. And Ukyo found herself suddenly torn between relief that she was finally going to be freed... and dread at seeing Ranma and Akane together. From what she could distinguish through the wall of the whirlwind, he was carrying her in his arms, just like the knight cradling his newly-rescued damsel in distress. Akane probably had her arms thrown around his neck in a grateful embrace. The whole thing was so romantic, Ukyo wanted to gag.

The wail of the whirlwind reached a frenzied shriek before dissipating abruptly with a sound like a small clap of thunder, leaving the human figure standing alone in the sudden stillness. Silence descended, and the dust stirred by the vanished wind settled like a shroud around the figure.

Ukyo blinked. It wasn't Ranma.

The figure was a woman. Tall, slender, with a long, tangled mane of dark hair that fell to her waist. She was wearing ragged, bloodstained clothing, and had a sword strapped to her back.

And she was carrying Ranma in her arms.

Ranma, who was unconscious. Just unconscious, Ukyo thought numbly, just unconscious, even though she could see in the flickering light of the campfire that his head hung back over the woman's arm just a little too limply; that his skin was as pale and gray as ash, and his red Chinese shirt and black pants were heavy and wet with blood, lots and lots of blood that streaked his bare feet and stained his hands, and he was still, so unnaturally still that not even his chest was moving, he wasn't breathing...

...he's not breathing, oh gods he's not breathing, and he's bled white, but that can't be, it's impossible, because he was fine, just fine a moment ago in my mind, and I was angry at him for being so fine and happy with Akane, and look at him he's not fine at all he's dead oh gods he's dead, my Ranchan...

A strange, dull tightness filled Ukyo's head as she stared and stared.

The woman was holding him, seeming almost unconcerned that she was carrying a corpse in her arms, and she looked at all of them with dark eyes that seemed terribly old, though her face was young.

"Excuse me," the woman said in a calm voice as her gaze came to rest on Cologne. "What the hell is going on here?"

And it was only then, as she heard the familiar voice, that Ukyo realized the woman was Akane.

No. This couldn't be. It was wrong, all wrong. Nothing made sense. Not Ranma's corpse, not the strange, beautiful warrior woman with old eyes that spoke with Akane's voice. It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare...

Ukyo heard a strangled, despairing cry of protest that must have come from her own throat, because Akane looked sharply in her direction, their eyes locking for one brief instant before her surprised gaze then flicked up to where Mousse and Ryoga hung from the tree branches, and then back to Cologne.

Ukyo watched as Akane's face hardened into a mask of icy rage. "Cologne," she said, and her low voice was like chilled steel.

And Ukyo suddenly wondered, through the haze of shock and grief that had numbed her beyond all feeling, if perhaps they were going to be rescued after all.

-----------------

Akane did not want to relinquish her possessive grip on Ranma's cooling, stiffening body, but with this unexpected situation she knew she needed to take advantage of Cologne's surprise to ready herself for battle. Without lowering her guard, she knelt and gently placed Ranma's body on the hard ground of the clearing, trying in vain not to notice the cold slackness of his gray, bloodstained skin as she brushed her fingers briefly across his cheek.

_Not dead_, she told herself. The thought kept her grief at bay. _Not dead, just... gone for a while. He'll come back. He promised._

She could feel Cologne's eyes on her, as if searching for a weakness. But she would make sure there would be none to find. When she rose again to her feet a moment later, and faced Cologne, her expression was carefully blank as she returned the Amazon's gaze, instinctively assessing her adversary with a detached swiftness that came from long experience.

Cologne was bleeding. In pain, and favoring her wounded shoulder, though hiding it well. Both the clearing and her robes were splattered with blood -- more than it looked like the old Amazon could afford to lose, but with her tightly controlled ki swathing her small body like a shield, she could probably fight, massive blood loss or no.

And Akane hoped all the blood was Cologne's. Because Nabiki and Kuno were nowhere in sight. Anger and fear filled her, at the thought that her sister might be hurt, or worse. At least the others seemed mostly unharmed...

...including P-chan, who, Akane had realized the moment she saw him hanging in the tree, was Ryoga.

She was surprised at how sudden and easily that particular realization clicked in her brain. Maybe it was the bandana. Or maybe it was the fact that she knew, having viewed the expedition often through Yuki-onna's mirror before they reached the mountain, that Ryoga had come to China with Ranma, while P-chan had most certainly not. Or perhaps she already knew on some subconscious level, and only now, after everything that had happened to her in the past five years, could she accept it without anger or hard feelings.

Whatever the reason, she knew. And she didn't care, because at the moment, as she glowered furiously at Cologne while standing next to Ranma's corpse, and with Nabiki nowhere in sight of the bloodstained clearing, Ryoga being P-chan was the smallest complication in her life.

"Akane," the old Amazon responded flatly, though her eyes were fixed on the body lying on the ground next to her. "So. After all this... and he is dead."

"Yes," Akane said, amazed at how calm her voice was, because she could feel cold fire burning behind her eyes. "I hope you're satisfied."

Cologne looked at Akane then, and chuckled bitterly. "I am not. His death defeats everything for which I have struggled, and sacrificed."

Akane snorted softly, galled at the old woman's audacity. "Oh please. Sacrifice? What do _you_ know of sacrifice?"

"More than you credit me for," Cologne said, and for a moment, Akane thought she saw some real regret flicker across the aged face. "I have sacrificed much. Trust. Love..." Stroking the pale fur of the unconscious cat in her arms, her gaze once again drifted back to Ranma. "Friendship."

Akane shook her head sharply. "No," she said, fighting back the hot anger that was welling up in her belly. "You _chose_ to throw all that away. And it's only a sacrifice if you value what you give up."

Cologne's eyes hardened. "Do not presume to tell me what I do and do not value, child," she said. Her flickering scarlet ki brightened around her. "I only did what I had to do."

"That's crap," Akane snapped. "You didn't _have_ to do any of it. You didn't _have_ to cast the blood spell. You could have just left us alone."

"Honor demanded otherwise."

"Honor?" Akane laughed, short and without humor. "You have a strange concept of honor. Your high and mighty Amazon tradition somehow supersedes basic human decency, is that it? Is that your excuse? The justification for all the suffering you've caused?"

Cologne frowned. "I do not need to justify myself to anyone. Least of all a stripling like yourself."

"How convenient for you." Akane clenched her teeth, fighting the pricking ache behind her eyes. She could feel her temper slipping through her careful control, and she struggled inwardly to find her center of calm, knowing that she could not afford to be impulsive with Cologne as her opponent if it should come to a battle -- especially since Cologne was a master of the Soul of Ice technique. The last thing she needed was to be giving off hot, angry ki that could be used against her in a Hiryu Shoten Ha attack. But she could not purge her fear and anger until she knew...

"Where is my sister?" Her throat nearly closed off on the question, for fear of the answer. The irate expression that crossed the Amazon's face did nothing to ease her fears, for it was apparent that she knew the answer. "If you've hurt her in any way--"

"Your sister," Cologne said sharply, "is just fine. That Kuno boy carried her off into the forest when I arrived."

Understanding suddenly dawned on Akane's face, even as she was nearly overwhelmed with relief that Nabiki was safe. "But not before she shot you."

She had seen her sister through Yuki-onna's mirror. She had seen the gun, before Ranma had started his journey up the mountain; before Yuki-onna had pled with her not to watch him through the mirror anymore, for the sake of her own sanity. It had surprised her that Nabiki would own an illegal weapon, but she hadn't made the connection between that, and the Amazon's wound, until that moment. "I know my sister, Cologne," she said. "She might be a bit mercenary, but she wouldn't hurt anyone unless she felt she had good reason. What did you do, to make her shoot you? Or is that something else you don't need to justify to a 'stripling like myself?'"

The Amazon merely stared at her in challenge. But then, it didn't take much deductive reasoning to figure out at least part why Nabiki had shot Cologne. It was obvious that some sort of battle had taken place. That it had ended with Ukyo, Ryoga and Mousse tied up and helpless, and Kuno escaping into the forest with her sister, was answer enough. No doubt all hell had broken loose when the Amazon had arrived on the scene.

"Well, then," Akane said, her voice cold as she slowly, deliberately drew her sword from the sheath on her back. She held out the blade, so that its tip pointed accusingly at the stoic Amazon. "You're so worried about your honor. What about _my_ honor? My fiancé is dead because of your blood spell. For the sake of my honor, and his, I should kill you."

Cologne said nothing, but her eyes were hard and bright.

"I could, you know," Akane said. "Kill you."

Cologne's piercing gaze flickered briefly over Akane's lean, battle-hardened form, and noted the tell-tale long hair that revealed a passage of time not matched in the mortal world. She appraised the sword, held with ease and confidence in Akane's hands, and the girl's tightly controlled ki. Then her gaze once again came to rest on brown eyes that spoke of having seen too much death; most of it, if the shadows she saw within their depths were any indication, inflicted by Akane's own hand.

"Perhaps you could," she said.

The admission surprised Akane.

Cologne tilted her head and said, almost conversationally, "How long were you in the Kami realm?"

"Five years," Akane said, without hesitation. She heard a muffled exclamation of shock from Ukyo's direction, and a brief, alarmed squeal from where P-chan dangled from the tree branches, but she didn't take her eyes off Cologne. The Amazon, to her annoyance, didn't seem the least bit ruffled by her big announcement. "And," she added, "I spent almost every waking moment of those five years fighting for my life against both gods and demons." It was a slight exaggeration, she knew, since she spent the first few months training with Masakazu, rather than battling the denizens of the Kami realm. But it was close enough to the truth that she felt it didn't matter.

Cologne merely nodded. "Yes, that explains it. You are obviously not the clumsy, incompetent girl you were before. But still, five years in the Kami plane can't compete with 5,000 years of Amazon history." And she thought of the small vial of mind numbing potion that still lay hidden in her sleeve.

Akane's eyes narrowed. Something dark had just flitted across Cologne's stony expression. Almost instinctively, she fell into a more aggressive stance. "Care to put that assumption to the test?"

The Amazon calmly raised an eyebrow, and Akane got the feeling she would have shrugged, were it not for the wound in her shoulder. "If you intend to kill me for Ranma's honor, whether I care to or not is irrelevant. I will, of course, not stand idly by and let you kill me without resistance. But if given a choice, I would prefer to leave in peace."

"Leave in--" Akane spluttered in disbelief. "You have got to be kidding me. After everything that's happened, you want to just walk away?"

"Shampoo's rightful husband is dead," Cologne said. "The goal I struggled for no longer exists. I have no reason to stay. And I have been too long from my duties at home as it is. I desire nothing more at this moment than to return home to my village without incident."

Akane stared, dumbfounded.

Cologne wanted to leave. Just walk away. Without a fight. Incredible.

"Why should I let you?" she asked.

"Because you might be able to kill me," said Cologne, "but I don't think you want to."

Akane laughed shortly, a sound utterly devoid of humor. "Don't be so sure."

"If you really wanted to kill me to avenge Ranma's death, you wouldn't be wasting time talking to me."

And Akane, to her own disquiet, found that she was right. After all, if Cologne didn't want to fight, she couldn't just kill her in cold blood. And though her hands had been often stained by the sickly green and black of demon blood, she had never killed a fellow human being. That Cologne had been able to sense that hesitation in her was disturbing.

But... perhaps letting her go wasn't such a bad idea. If Cologne left now -- if she returned to her village with news of Ranma's death -- then she would not be around to discover that Ranma might not be as dead as she thought.

But if... _when_ Ranma came back, there was the possibility that Cologne _would_ find out, even in her isolated village. If so, would she once again stake her claim? Akane frowned slightly. She couldn't very well ask to find out and raise suspicions. _Oh, by the way, Cologne, if by some chance Ranma came back to life, would you come after him again?_ No, that definitely wasn't an option.

So there were her choices. She could fight Cologne, most likely to the death. No, it would _have_ to be to the death. For if she defeated Cologne, she would undoubtedly receive the kiss of death, and she knew that Cologne would not share Shampoo's reluctance to fulfill that aspect of Amazon honor. To defeat Cologne without killing her would only ensure that the Amazon would continue to plague her. If she killed Cologne, however, then she would never have to worry again about the Amazon seeking her out for revenge.

But... could she live with herself afterward, knowing that Cologne had been willing to walk away?

If she let Cologne leave peacefully, yes, there was a chance she might find out about Ranma's possible revival. But there was a greater chance that she _wouldn't_ find out, and that they would never hear from her again.

"All right," Akane said at last. "Maybe I don't want to kill you. But that doesn't mean that I can't, or won't, if necessary."

"It is not necessary," Cologne replied. And though the words were a concession, her tone did not relinquish its pride. Her tone said that she did not want to fight, not because she did not believe she would win, but because it would gain her nothing.

Akane lowered her sword. "Then leave."

-----------------

Ryoga couldn't believe what was happening. He knew on some level that he was in shock, because he felt entirely too calm about the events unfolding before his eyes.

Ranma... dead. Lying on the ground, a lifeless, empty shell, covered in too much blood. His rival. His best friend. Dead.

And Akane. Akane, more terrible and beautiful and cold than he had ever seen her, with her long hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. Akane, calmly telling Cologne that she had been in the Kami plane for five years. Five years! Telling Cologne that she had fought demons and gods. That she could kill her if she wanted. And Cologne, acknowledging the truth in that... and then leaving without a fight.

He was sure he would wake up any moment now. Any moment now. Right.

He watched as Cologne turned away from Akane, then picked up her long, gnarled staff from where it lay near the fire with her good hand, while cradling Shampoo with her wounded arm. The Amazon then looked directly at him for one brief moment, before looking over to where Mousse hung next to him in the tree branches.

Mousse squawked as Cologne pinned him with her gaze, and Ryoga looked over to see the duck suddenly wide-eyed with apprehension as he watched Cologne approach.

"What are you doing?" said Akane, and Ryoga glanced at her quickly, afraid to take his eyes off the approaching Amazon for more than a moment. Akane looked upset.

"Only taking what is mine," responded Cologne, and Ryoga flinched as she lashed out with the pointed tip of her staff. He felt the sharp breeze of its passage whisper against his face as the tip neatly severed the rope above Mousse so that he plummeted like a stone. The duck squawked in fear, even as Cologne dropped her staff and reached out to catch him by the ropes that bound his wings to his sides.

Mousse immediately began struggling as if his life depended on it, wriggling in his bonds and hissing and biting at Cologne's hands and arms, until she shook him violently. "Silence! You _will_ be still," she commanded. "You are in enough trouble as it is, boy. Do not compound your sin by attacking your elder."

Mousse fell silent, but he looked over at Akane. The pleading and desperation Ryoga could see in his black bird eyes was so human, it hurt to look at it.

"Excuse me, but I don't think he wants to go with you," Akane said. Her voice was polite, Ryoga noticed, but her sword was once again raised in an aggressive stance.

"That is none of your concern," Cologne replied.

"Yes it is." Akane's voice was calm and cold. "Mousse is my friend. I'm not going to let you take him if he doesn't want to go."

Ryoga blinked in surprise. So did Mousse.

Cologne scowled. "He is not your friend. You've never had any dealings with him unless it involved his rivalry with Ranma in some way, and even then it was only superficially."

Akane shrugged. "So? He came here to help Ranma rescue me from the Kami realm. He was Ranma's friend. That makes him my friend."

"He only came here to follow Shampoo, as usual." Cologne's voice was getting dangerous. "Not because he was Ranma's friend."

"He came for both reasons," Akane said, as if she knew this without a doubt. "And speaking of Shampoo, don't you think it's rather odd that she's slept through this whole thing? Or is her unconscious state your doing as well?"

Ryoga felt his eyes widening as he looked at Akane. Was she trying to make Cologne angry? A soft, worried bwee escaped him as he thought, Please, Akane. Don't make Cologne mad. She'll kill you. Please, Akane, please... Just let them go. Shampoo and Mousse can take care of themselves, please, just let them go...

When Cologne didn't answer, Akane said, "It seems to me that you're afraid Shampoo wouldn't approve of these proceedings. And if that's the case, I'm afraid I can't let you take her either, because she is also my friend."

Ryoga flinched as the crackle of Cologne's battle aura charged the clearing like lightning. "You are trying to vex me, child," the Amazon said. "Surely you have realized that Shampoo is as much responsible for the blood spell as I am, if not more so. It was _her_ choice to cast it, and not mine. So do not pretend friendship with her, simply to presume to keep me from what is rightfully mine."

Akane's expression darkened. "Shampoo and Mousse are people, not property. And besides, I already know Shampoo cast the blood spell. But I also know that she felt bad about it afterwards, and tried to make up for it by helping Ranma save me."

Cologne's eyes narrowed. "And how is it that you know all this?"

Ryoga was surprised to see an almost Ranma-like smirk flit across Akane's expression. "Wouldn't you like to know." Then she sobered again. "People make mistakes, Cologne. Shampoo had the courage to admit that she was wrong, and try to do something to fix her mistake. You, on the other hand, hid behind your Amazon tradition like a coward to justify your actions, and that is what you are still doing."

_Akane, what are you doing?_ thought Ryoga, feeling panic rise in him as he saw the fury build in Cologne's countenance. He wondered if it was possible that Ranma's death had pushed her over the edge. _Please, stop, she's going to kill you!_

"Now you can go back to your village and stay there forever, as far as I'm concerned," Akane continued. "But you're going to have to go without Mousse and Shampoo."

"I see," said Cologne. "So, you wouldn't attack me to avenge Ranma's death, but you are willing to fight me to keep Shampoo and Mousse from returning to their home?"

Akane nodded. "Yes, that pretty much sums it up."

"So you care more about them than you do Ranma."

"Of course not," Akane said. "But fighting solely for vengeance is petty and futile. I'm used to fighting immediate dangers that threaten myself and my friends. Mousse seems to be in a bit of trouble with you, and I have no doubt that you have some weird, torturous and humiliating Amazon punishment in store for him once you get back to your village. Am I right?"

Cologne said nothing, but the entire clearing glowed scarlet from her battle aura.

Akane took the silence for the affirmative answer it was. "Well then, I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that to him, because as I said, he is my friend, and he hasn't done anything wrong. Other than defy your stupid Amazon law, that is."

The stunned silence in the clearing was only broken by the sound of Ryoga's quiet, despairing bwee.

"Very well, Akane," the old Amazon said in a deadly quiet voice, as she lowered the unconscious cat and the squirming duck to the ground. "If it is a battle you want, you have it."

Oh crap, thought Ryoga as Cologne disappeared in a blur of speed, and as he looked frantically at Akane, squealing a warning, he thought he saw a strange, small smile on her face...

-----------------

Somewhere, deep inside her heart, Akane's return to the mortal realm had sparked all of her old insecurities. She remembered how slow and clumsy she had been, in comparison to Ranma, and the other martial artists her age. And as for Happosai and Cologne... well, she never in a million years thought she might become a martial artist of their caliber.

She feared that Cologne was right. A mere five years of training in the Kami realm could not hope to stand up to 5,000 years of Amazon history, and the centuries of experience that the old woman personally possessed.

But now, as Akane stood once again in the mortal realm, her battle senses extended...

... she could feel Ukyo and Ryoga behind her; could tell without looking that their bodies, human and piglet, had gone into mild states of shock. She could sense the forest around her, could discern the faint stirring of life in each and every single root, branch and tree leaf lying still in the stagnant air.

And, approaching from not far off... the old familiar presence of... her sister.

Nabiki was coming. She was safe. She was with Kuno. And...

Akane felt a spark of surprise.

Yuki-onna?

She felt all this within a fraction of a second. And as Cologne came at her in the silence... she could hear the old woman's threading heartbeat. She could sense the exact amount of power within Cologne's ki. She could see the attack coming -- a feint to the left. Akane pretended to fall into the trap, and began to move as if to dodge. As expected, the sharp point of Cologne's gnarled staff changed course, aimed for her heart in a vicious instant death strike.

But the Amazon was slow. So slow. Cologne moved through the air as if it had the consistency of tar.

And Akane suddenly understood, for the first time, how much the Kami realm had changed her.

She moved, and she felt like liquid; like water flowing. The edge of her sword flashed in the firelight.

And she watched, feeling almost detached, as Cologne leaped back in surprise, landing lightly on her feet on the other side of the clearing. The Amazon's eyes were wide as she stared at her staff.

A moment passed, and the staff fell to the ground in nine segmented pieces, leaving Cologne holding a stump that extended less than a centimeter from her hand.

The old woman blinked, and by the time her eyes opened again, Akane was there with the edge of her blade resting lightly against her neck.

The Amazon matriarch looked up, her expression a mingling of shock and fear, and Akane smiled grimly. She said nothing. Her expression spoke for her.

Cologne's countenance hardened. "Well, what are you waiting for, foolish child? Kill me."

Akane raised an eyebrow. "Why? Are you planning on giving me the Kiss of Death because I have defeated you?"

"You know the answer to that." Cologne's eyes gleamed like shards of obsidian. "Unlike Shampoo, I refuse to dishonor the traditions of my sacred ancestors."

"Do you honestly think," said Akane, as she gently drew the edge of her blade along the Amazon's neck, barely parting the withered skin without drawing blood, "that you could get close enough to me to deliver your traditional kiss?"

Cologne glowered, anger burning fiercely in her countenance.

Akane let her sword hand fall to her side. "You are defeated, Cologne. Leave now, on your own, or I will force you to leave."

But Cologne didn't move... except to dip one hand into the heavy folds of her robe.

Akane almost sighed. What was the old crone thinking this time? Was she going for some sort of hidden weapon? After this last display, didn't Cologne comprehend that it didn't matter _what_ she tried to throw at her, she would _see_ it?

It was a small vial. And, with a snap of her wrist, Cologne flung the liquid contents at Akane's face.

Instinctively, Akane blocked with the flat of her blade. The clear liquid, which smelled musky and faintly sulphurous, splashed against her sword. Droplets flew everywhere. As she flinched, she caught a glimpse of a malevolent smile spreading across Cologne's face; and, cursing herself for her overconfidence, Akane realized that a few flying droplets were going to strike her cheek. She reached up to block with her free hand, thinking that if it were some sort of acid, she could afford a few scars on her palm...

But Cologne was grinning. And as Akane felt the droplets touch the bare skin of her blocking hand, she suddenly wondered if maybe she had lost after all...

The droplets were cold, and unexpectedly hard, like small pebbles, striking her palm with stinging force. Akane blinked as the frozen liquid fell around her like hail stones, falling and shattering against the hard ground.

And as Cologne's smile wilted, surprise flickering across her face as she looked beyond Akane, across the clearing. Akane turned, looking over her shoulder, but already sensing; knowing what she would see.

Yuki-onna stood at the edge of the clearing, one white hand stretched palm outward towards her. Beside the Snow Woman stood Nabiki and Kuno, staring at her with nearly identical looks of astonishment written plainly on their features.

"Step back, Akane-chan," Yuki-onna said. A strange expression of both relief and sadness seemed to be warring on her pale, smooth face. "You do not want to be touching that when it thaws."

Quickly, Akane stepped away from the glittering frozen fragments. "What is it?" she asked.

"A trap." To Akane's surprise, it was Cologne who answered. Looking at her, she blinked, wondering at the old woman's sudden change in demeanor. Cologne's battle ki had faded to almost nothing. "A trap that almost snared you," the Amazon said with a bitter smile. "You are not as invulnerable as you think, child."

Akane eyed Cologne suspiciously. "And I thank you for that lesson," she replied. "I will do my best to remember it from now on."

Cologne returned her gaze expressionlessly. Akane watched the old woman, waiting for her next move; wondering what was going on in her head.

"You have defeated me," Cologne whispered at last. "I have nothing left with which to fight."

It was plain, from the look on Akane's face, that she didn't believe her.

But her disbelief did not seem to perturb Cologne. She looked at Akane calmly. "I must give you the Kiss of Death," she said.

Akane held her sword ready. "I will not let you."

Cologne closed her eyes, and the corner of her wrinkled mouth turned up slightly. "I know." And she sighed. "You, Akane, who set aside the sacred traditions of my ancestors as naught. You, who have managed to rob me of all things, which are mine by right." She opened her eyes, and her gaze burned. "I will not forget this, Akane Tendo."

Akane stood ready, her lips pursed into a tense frown, and did not reply. She would not argue. And she would not be taken off guard again.

Cologne glanced at where Shampoo lay on the ground, still unconscious, and in cat form.

"Don't touch her," Akane said.

"I have no intention of doing so," Cologne replied, without looking away. Her face was once again expressionless as she turned, this time to Mousse, who was awake and lying bound not far from Shampoo. Nearsighted as he was, the duck could still apparently feel the weight of the Amazon matriarch's gaze, and he swallowed.

"Tell her," Cologne said, "that the spirits of the ancestors do not recognize her."

Mousse's eyes widened.

"Tell her... that she is dead to me." Cologne turned away, then. Away from all of them.

Akane watched, half amazed, half resigned as the old Amazon, hunched over her wounded shoulder, hobbled slowly to the edge of the clearing, where she paused. "And tell her," she said, without looking back, "that I am dead to her."

And with that, there was a brief flash of movement, and she disappeared into the shadows of the forest.

-----------------

Nabiki couldn't believe it was over. Not the way she had imagined it. Oh no, quite the opposite. For Ranma, instead of rescuing her sister and returning in triumph to defeat Cologne and save them all, was dead. And Akane...

Akane was not trapped on the Ancient One's mountain with Ranma's corpse, as Nabiki had feared when she and Kuno found the Snow Woman weeping amidst the remains of her shattered mirror. As the three of them rushed back to the clearing at the base of the mountain, using Yuki-onna's frosted shard of mirror as a guide, they had witnessed Akane's arrival.

They watched as she gently lowered Ranma's body to the ground, and Nabiki felt her heart twist inside her as she realized that what they had hoped to prevent -- Akane discovering Ranma's death while utterly alone -- had happened anyway, even as she felt a surge of relief that at least Akane was off the damn mountain.

They heard her voice through the shard as she argued with Cologne, spurring them onward with a near panic-induced urgency, fearing the worst as Kuno determinedly hacked a path through the foliage before them. They arrived at the clearing in time to witness the brief battle that left Nabiki and Kuno gaping in amazement; in time for Yuki-onna to save Akane from the old Amazon's trap.

And now it was over. Cologne was gone.

Akane was here, right before Nabiki's eyes. Taller. Older. Battle-scarred. And as Akane finally looked away from where the Amazon had left the clearing, their eyes met, their gazes locked... and Nabiki realized with a shock that she didn't know this woman. She felt as if she was looking at a stranger.

But then Akane blinked. The ageless, obsidian-hard edge of ice faded from her eyes as they grew bright with a sheen of tears. She took a step forward, inhaling sharply, her lips trembling, and said, "Nabiki."

And Nabiki knew at that moment that whatever else happened, her sister was back, and she didn't even care that Kuno, Ukyo, Ryoga and Mousse were staring, she was there hugging her sister, and Akane clutched at her, crying into her hair because she was taller than her now, and it didn't matter because her face was wet too.

"You're back," Nabiki found herself whispering over and over, until Akane finally laughed through her tears.

"Thanks to you," Akane said, hugging so tightly that Nabiki almost had to gasp for breath for a moment. "Yuki-onna showed me. Cologne would have succeeded if you hadn't been there to thwart her at every turn. And Ranma never would have known how to find me if you hadn't helped him so much."

Nabiki stiffened at the mention of Ranma, and she drew back. "Akane," she said... and then she found herself at a loss for words. What could she say? Akane knew Ranma was dead, and even as Nabiki looked at her, a dawning look of horror spread across Akane's face.

"No!" Akane said, releasing Nabiki and looking back at where she had left Ranma's body, lying at the edge of the clearing. Nabiki braced herself for a fresh onset of grief in the face of the harsh reality of Ranma's death.

But, to Nabiki's great surprise, Akane was still smiling through her tears. "No," she said again, and she was shaking her head and waving her hands in front of her as she backed towards Ranma's body. "I need to explain. I know what it looks like, but Ranma's not dead!"

Nabiki felt a sudden sick sense of dread, and she glanced over at Yuki-onna to see what she was making of this. The devastated look on the Snow Woman's face as she looked at Akane didn't comfort her in the least. Had her sister returned, only to be driven over the edge of sanity by Ranma's death? It was a thought echoed in the worried expressions of the others in the clearing, human and animal alike.

Apparently Akane was not oblivious to their concern, because she stopped. "Well, yes," she said, looking a bit flustered. "I mean, he _is_ dead. That's obvious, isn't it. I mean...." She straightened and took a deep breath, looking around at each of them in the clearing. "Look, I'm not crazy. I can explain. But first...." She looked at Yuki-onna and once again blinked back a wash of tears. "I'm so glad you're here," she said, walking over to the Snow Woman and taking her white hand. "I don't know how or why, but you are... and I need your help."

"Anything, Akane-chan." The Snow Woman's voice was low and broken. "Anything."

Akane led the Snow Woman by the hand to Ranma's body. Shakily, she knelt down next to him and the Snow Woman followed suit. "It hasn't been very long," she whispered, and her voice carried in the silence of the clearing. "But I felt it when I held him; his body is already... he's..."

Yuki-onna understood. "I will preserve him," she said, and Akane nodded tightly, tears spilling down her cheeks. Nabiki felt the knot of worry loosen slightly at the sight. Akane didn't seem crazy, and she was grieving. And she was thinking logically. She hadn't known that the Snow Woman would be here, but she wasn't so shaken that she couldn't ask for some much-needed help. Whatever she meant about Ranma not being dead... well, she said she would explain.

As the Snow Woman spread her hands over Ranma's pale, prone form, Nabiki found herself feeling immensely grateful that the winter spirit had come. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like, trekking the three day hike back through the wilderness to civilization with Ranma's slowly decaying body...

She shuddered, but then a soft moan tore her attention away from her morbid thoughts.

Ukyo, still gagged and bound to the tree, had tears coursing down her face as she stared at Ranma's body. Nabiki immediately went to her, feeling guilty. She had been so wrapped up with her own reunion with Akane, she had forgotten almost everyone else. "Ukyo," she said, and Ukyo turned her face away, muffled sobs escaping through the gag. Nabiki understood and didn't question... but she couldn't just leave Ukyo tied up. She looked at Ukyo's bonds and realized that there was no way she could undo the ropes herself. "Kuno," she called.

Kuno only let his gaze linger briefly on Akane and the Snow Woman as they knelt over Ranma's body, before walking over to Nabiki. He understood what she wanted and severed Ukyo's bonds with a slash of his bokken, then freed P-Chan from his dangling rope prison as well. "We need some hot water," Nabiki said, pointing toward their backpacks at one edge of the clearing. "Ryoga packed a kettle."

Kuno nodded at Nabiki, then looked down at the despondent black piglet, and the duck that hovered protectively beside the unconscious cat. They looked back at him suspiciously. Kuno cleared his throat. "I will gather your clothes also, if you wish," he said with solemn dignity.

Ryoga and Mousse shared an uncertain glance, before peering back at the changed Kendoist. Ryoga nodded hesitantly. Kuno offered him a small bow and started on his task, leaving the piglet and duck staring after him with wide, surprised eyes. Ryoga looked to Nabiki and bweed in a manner that could have easily been interpreted as "What the hell?" but Nabiki was focused on Ukyo, helping her untie the gag.

Ukyo coughed and spit once the gag was removed, rubbed the back of her hand across her lips, and wiped a bit ineffectually at her face with her sleeve. She still didn't look directly at Nabiki, but didn't refuse her outstretched hand offered to help her to her feet.

"Ukyo," Nabiki said, and Ukyo cut her off with a raised hand.

"Don't tell me it's going to be okay," Ukyo whispered hoarsely. "It's not okay. Nothing is okay."

"Actually," Nabiki said gently, "I was going to ask if you would stoke the campfire so that we could boil some water."

Ukyo looked at her sharply then, all her frustration and anger and grief open and raw and exposed in her face.

Nabiki wanted to wince, but her mask was in place and she gazed back at Ukyo calmly until the rawness in her expression softened slightly. Finally, Ukyo shakily put her face in her hands, rubbed at her tears, and nodded. "Yeah," she said, muffled, then she lowered her hands and looked up. "Yeah, I can do that."

Nabiki nodded, reaching out and giving Ukyo's hand a little squeeze. _You're right, it's not okay, everything is wrong and backwards and twisted all out of shape, but we'll get through this so hang in there,_ was the unspoken message. Ukyo squeezed back briefly, then headed for the campfire.

Nabiki turned to start collecting water from their supplies when Akane said, anxiously, "Why isn't it working?" and all attention again turned towards the pair kneeling over Ranma's corpse. "What's wrong, Yuki-san?"

The Snow Woman's eyes were closed, and her brow was furrowed as she held her outstretched hands over Ranma's body. "There is magic," she said. "Powerful magic that is blocking my cold spell." She opened her eyes and seemed to wilt slightly. "I cannot get past it. I am sorry, Akane-chan. I am too weak here." Visibly perplexed, she reached toward Ranma's neck, her hand hovering over his grey-skinned throat for a moment, before she reached down and pulled at the stiff collar of his red Chinese shirt. Nabiki caught a glimpse of shiny metal underneath. "Ah," said the Snow Woman. "This is the source."

Akane leaned forward and gently pulled the collar back, revealing a skin-tight band of metal encircling Ranma's neck. "What is _that_?" Akane asked, looking upset and confused. "Ranma didn't say anything about this."

Nabiki felt her eyebrows raise by reflex, and her worries about Akane's sanity began to reassert themselves. How long had Akane been on the mountain, alone with Ranma's corpse, before the mysterious whirlwind brought her here? She didn't miss the worried glance that the Snow Woman gave her as well.

"It is of oni make," the Snow Woman answered. "It has the taint of fire devil about it, and it seems to... to serve the same purpose as my cold spell once did." Her voice lowered with shame, but she continued. "Only instead of blocking heat from reaching him, this metal band blocks cold."

Akane's eyes widened. "A cure?" she whispered. "For Jusenkyo?"

"So it seems," the Snow Woman replied.

The words fell into the silence of the clearing and seemed to reverberate for a moment. And then, behind Nabiki, Mousse and Ryoga began quacking and bweeing loudly, making such a racket in the quiet clearing that she whirled around and glared at them. Cure or not, now was _not_ the time for celebrating, or demanding, or whatever the hell it was they were doing. They got the message quick and immediately fell silent and still, looking as ashamed as duck and pig could possibly look.

Akane was reaching around Ranma's neck, feeling all around the band. Nabiki marveled that she managed to be so calm and collected about the whole situation. "There's no clasp, no seam in the metal," Akane said. She stood, pulling her sword from its scabbard. "I don't know how it got on, but it needs to come off, or you won't be able to..."

The Snow Woman nodded, then reached over to pull Ranma's collar away from the metal band.

Akane lifted her sword, then paused. "Will cutting it off destroy its magic?"

"I do not know," the Snow Woman answered, "but it is a possibility."

A very quiet, dismayed bwee escaped P-chan, and Akane looked at him. "I'm sorry, Ryoga," she said with genuine regret. With those words, the little black piglet froze, staring at Akane in horror, and paled until he was so grey that it looked like he might faint. Nabiki had to fight very hard to not let the shock show on her face. Akane _knew?_

"I know a cure is important," she continued, "but this... I can't let his body get worse without him. He's going to need it when he gets back, and I honestly don't know how it's going to work, but I'm pretty sure that letting his body go through rigor mortis isn't conducive to whatever he has to do to come back to life."

Now _everyone_ was staring at Akane in horror. Slowly, the Snow Woman reached out and touched Akane's arm. "Akane," she said, "why don't you explain to us what you mean."

Akane suddenly looked uncertain as she met their gazes. But then she straightened. With a flash of her katana, the metal circlet surrounding Ranma's neck fell in two pieces. Akane picked up the pieces and gestured to Ranma. "Please, Yuki-san," she said, and the Snow Woman nodded, stretching her hands out once again. This time, Nabiki could immediately see the frost forming on the surface of Ranma's dead, grey skin, and she looked away, feeling disconcerted and upset, seeing that emotion mirrored in Kuno's face, in Ukyo's face, even in Mousse's bird eyes. Ryoga still looked like he was on the verge of passing out.

She didn't even realize that Akane had come up behind her until she felt the touch on her arm. "Nabiki," Akane said, "why don't you go ahead and get that water? I'm cold. I'm going to sit by the fire." She looked over at Ukyo, who was throwing a sturdy log on the blaze, sending sparks up into the night sky. Ukyo met her gaze for a moment, then looked away, firelight glinting off the wetness in her eyes.

Akane closed her eyes briefly as if in pain for a moment, then looked at Mousse, still next to Shampoo. "Can you wake her up?" she asked. Mousse indicated that he would try, but seemed uncertain. Akane nodded. "When everyone is ready," she said, "come sit with me and I'll tell you what happened to me on the mountain."

It took longer than Nabiki's patience -- already stretched thin with stress and worry -- was prepared to allow, but she dealt with it. Mousse managed to wake Shampoo, and once the water was hot, the Jusenkyo-cursed slipped out of the clearing to change back to human form and get dressed. Mousse had the unfortunate task of bringing Shampoo up to speed with everything that had happened since Cologne had tapped her unconscious, and the stream of Mandarin conversation emanating from the darkness outside the clearing was punctuated with Shampoo's cries of grief and despair. Eventually they emerged. Shampoo did not look up, and she stumbled as if blind. She would have fallen but for Mousse's protective arm around her shoulder as he led her to the campfire.

Akane sat and stared into the fire through it all as one by one, her friends who had sacrificed so much to bring her back from the Kami realm joined her around the fire. Only Yuki-onna, after finishing her grim task, stayed outside the circle of the fire's warmth, standing guard by Ranma's frozen body.

Nabiki noticed that none of them -- Ryoga, Ukyo, Kuno, Mousse or Shampoo -- could bring themselves to look at Akane. Akane didn't seem to notice, but Nabiki had to wonder if anything at all escaped her notice now. Once again, looking at her sister stare into the flames, she felt like she was looking at a stranger, and she shivered.

"On the mountain," Akane said at last, "there is a dimensional weakness between the planes. Through it, demons can escape from the Kami realm into this world, but the Ancient One uses this barrier to keep them trapped on the mountain so they can't wreak havoc on the mortal realm."

She continued, explaining how the Shadowcat had lured her to the weakness in the veil between the planes with his promise to recapture Ranma. She told of how she called to Ranma, fearing him lost in the Nekoken; how she used the dagger of Susa-no-o to rend the veil and survive even with the blood spell still intact. She told of regaining consciousness to hear Ranma's voice calling her, of how he told her the Shadowcat was dead, but there was something terrible in his voice, and she knew he was hurt. How he left her with the promise that he would break the blood spell.

And then it was broken. And she came through the veil and the blood spell was gone, and the Shadowcat lay dead at her feet in pieces, in shreds, and Ranma's trail of blood led up the mountain and she was so afraid that he was dead...

...but then he was there. Talking to her. Arguing with her. Being utterly, infuriatingly Ranma until he finally confessed that he _was_ dead. He was a ghost. A kuei, doomed to haunt the mountain like the other hungry ghosts that dwelled at its base, and Shampoo cried out in anguish, and Ukyo wept silently, and Ryoga and Mousse and Kuno sat staring grimly into the flames.

Akane waited until Shampoo's audible grief subsided before she continued. She told of how she and Ranma determined a course of action. They would confront the Ancient One of course, and for the first time the listeners looked up from the flames at Akane, looks of incredulous hope kindled in their expressions. She told of walking up the mountain with Ranma's ghost; of finding his body just outside the Ancient One's cave. Of going into the cave and up the staircase to the gardens under the great pillars that held up the domain of the gods. Of confronting the Ancient One. Of telling him their most heartfelt desire, and him at last giving them an inkling of how it might be done. That it _could_ be done. Of Ranma being released from his kuei curse and then being spirited away to the afterlife where he was currently on his way to confront Emma-O and demand his life back.

"And then the Ancient One sent me here," Akane said. "And, well, you know the rest."

Only then did she look up to meet the confounded gazes of her friends. "So like I said." She smiled, and Nabiki, her head still whirling with all the information, once again saw her little sister in this tall, battle-hardened warrior woman. "Ranma might be dead at the moment," Akane said, "but he's not going to stay that way. He promised me that he'd find a way to come back, and if anyone can do it, he can."

There was a long silence as everyone seemed to digest what Akane had told them. Nabiki felt her mind whirling with questions, but it was Ukyo who spoke first. "So," she said. Her eyes were still wet, but her voice and expression were firm and determined. "What do we do next, Akane? What can we do to help?"

Akane looked up in surprise at the okonomiyaki chef, her former rival, and smiled, the gratitude and relief on her face plain to see, and for the first time Nabiki realized that Akane was worried about this very thing. "To be honest," she said, "I don't really know. I have no idea how long it will take Ranma to... well, work things out on his end."

Kuno cleared his throat. "If I may make a suggestion," he said quietly, "since we have no idea how long Ranma's journey back from the dead may take, we should camp for the night and begin the journey back to Japan tomorrow. Am I correct in guessing that it does not matter where Ranma's physical form is, for him to complete his return?" he asked Akane.

Akane blinked at him. She blinked again, looked at Nabiki questioningly, then back at Kuno as if he'd grown another head. Kuno bore her scrutiny patiently. "I... I think so," she said at last, "or the Ancient One wouldn't have essentially sent me on my way. I was going to suggest something similar..." She peered at Kuno again, obviously trying to figure out just who was this strange man with Kuno's face. Nabiki decided to put Akane out of her misery.

"Kuno has seen the light," she told her sister. "He finally gets it -- all of it. He's a changed man."

Akane looked at Kuno in open astonishment, even as the others gaped at him as well. "You're kidding," said Ukyo. "I wondered what the hell had happened to him. I thought maybe Cologne had knocked him on the head too hard." Kuno looked at her, and she had the decency to blush for referring to him in the third person right in front of him. "Er, sorry Kuno," she said. "Akane coming back five years older was a shock, but I never thought you'd finally..."

"No apology necessary," Kuno said. "It is I who should be apologizing to all of you." And sensing the opportune moment, he rose from his seat, then bowed deeply before them. "I would be most gratified if you all would accept my humblest apologies for the atrocities I have committed in the past for the sake of my mad delusions. I have treated all of you most poorly... you especially, Akane, and Ranma most of all. I shall do whatever is required to make proper restitution, no matter how long it takes, and I do so with the hope that I will also be able to offer this apology to Ranma once he has regained his flesh. This is my vow."

Akane was left speechless, her mouth hanging open slightly. Nabiki once again came to the rescue. "And she accepts your apology. Don't you, sis?"

Akane nodded. "Thank you, Kuno," she said finally. "And thank you for what you have already done in providing the means for this rescue mission."

Kuno merely bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"Well, then," said Ukyo, getting to her feet. "If we're really heading back tomorrow, I'm going to start making camp." As she walked toward the supplies, Nabiki watched her, wondering just how much of Ukyo's newfound composure was real, and how much of it was just keeping busy for the sake of sanity.

It had been a hell of a day.

"Akane," said Mousse. Shampoo was sitting close to him, her hands in her lap, her head bowed, eyes overshadowed by her hair. "If you would grant us this request... Shampoo and I would like to build a litter for bearing... for bearing Ranma back to Japan."

Akane nodded wordlessly, tears standing out in her eyes. Then she stood and walked over to the pair, leaned over, put her hand on Shampoo's shoulder and whispered something between them that Nabiki could not hear. Shampoo slumped over, put her face in her hands and wept, and Mousse held her tighter, but as Akane walked away, Nabiki could see that Mousse was smiling at her.

Nabiki stood and joined her as she walked to the edge of the clearing. "What did you say?" she asked, burning with curiosity, but Akane just smiled and shrugged. Nabiki rolled her eyes and sighed, but wasn't really all that put out. "You haven't changed all that much, you know," she said wryly.

"Neither have you," said Akane. "Trying to eavesdrop."

"Hey, if I had been really trying, I would have succeeded."

Akane laughed, and Nabiki felt warmed to see genuine mirth in her eyes. But almost immediately, Akane's eyes clouded over again. "Wait," she said, frowning. "Where's Ryoga?"

Nabiki whirled and scanned the clearing. Ryoga was nowhere to be seen. The Lost Boy had flown the coop right under their noses, and she cursed herself for not paying more attention to him. She should have seen this coming. "Akane, he thinks—"

"I know what he thinks," Akane said, "and he's wrong. Damn it. Don't worry, I'll find him." And with that, Akane disappeared into the thick foliage at the edge of the clearing.

Ukyo came up behind Nabiki, peering out into the forest. "I didn't even see him go," she said. "That idiot."

Nabiki snorted. "Can you blame him?"

"He should have told us about his curse. He especially should have told Akane."

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying that if you had a curse that would have allowed you to get closer to Ranma in ways you otherwise couldn't, you wouldn't have taken advantage of that?"

Ukyo turned away, her lips pressed tight, tears bright in her eyes.

Nabiki mentally kicked herself. "I'm sorry, Ukyo. That wasn't fair."

"It was perfectly fair. You're right, Nabiki, I'm hardly one to be criticizing Ryoga right now." She sighed. "I'm actually jealous. He had the guts to actually run away from... from all this. I don't even know why I'm still here."

"Yes you do," said Nabiki, and Ukyo turned on her with almost defiant challenge in her gaze. "You stay," Nabiki continued, "because in spite of all the pain you're in right now, in spite of feeling like you've lost everything, you're still a good person who can't just walk out on her friends."

Ukyo's glare softened. "Are you sure it's not just because I know that if I took off right now, in the middle of the Chinese wilderness, I'd get just as lost as Ryoga?"

"Maybe a little of that too," Nabiki said mildly. "But my first point still stands."

Ukyo just sighed and shook her head.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about something," Nabiki said. "I figured I could talk to you about it when we got to Japan, but I suppose there's no reason we can't talk about it now."

Ukyo looked at her, curious and suspicious all at once at the sudden strange shift in the conversation. "What?" she said.

Nabiki tilted her head, smiling enigmatically. "Just something to think about. One word, really. And you don't have to decide right away. We can talk about it more when we get back to Japan."

Now Ukyo was really perplexed. "What? What one word? Just tell me!"

Nabiki leaned forward and whispered, "Franchise."

Ukyo blinked. Then, almost in spite of herself, she laughed and shook her head. "You want to go into business with me?"

Nabiki shrugged and said, "What else do we have to do when we get back?"

Ukyo didn't have an answer for that, and just snorted. But the half smile she gave Nabiki before turning back to setting up camp was the first genuine smile Nabiki had seen on her face since before the whole blood spell mess began.

Nabiki looked over to the other side of the clearing where the Snow Woman knelt by Ranma's frozen body. Everyone was giving them a wide berth, but the Snow Woman didn't seem to mind. She sat with her eyes closed, one hand resting gently on Ranma's forehead.

Nabiki had finished setting up her own tent, and Ukyo had set up the rest of the camp and had started cooking okonomiyaki, filling the clearing with delicious smells, when Akane finally returned with Ryoga. They both looked like they had been crying, Nabiki couldn't help but notice, but the look of utter devastation had left the Lost Boy's countenance, though he still looked far from happy.

"There," Akane said as they entered the clearing, and her tone and her manner struck Nabiki as being almost motherly. "See, everything's fine, nobody's mad." She said it in a way that clearly indicated that if, in fact, anyone _was_ mad at Ryoga for his disappearing act, they needed to chill the hell out immediately. "Now don't worry about it. You should get something to eat, and then try to get some sleep, okay?"

Ryoga nodded, not quite looking at her. As she turned away, heading towards the Snow Woman, he reached out and caught her hand in a bold gesture that amazed Nabiki, and she would have stared if she hadn't been trying to be so discreet in her observation.

"Akane-san," Ryoga said, his voice low and hoarse. "Thank you."

Akane just smiled. "What are friends for?"

Ryoga muttered something that Nabiki couldn't hear.

"Yes," Akane said, gently but firmly. "We are, and don't forget it." She took him by the shoulder and pushed him toward where Ukyo was cooking and trying very hard not to stare at them. "Now go eat. Get some rest." This time he obeyed. When he reached Ukyo, he looked at her, took a deep breath, and said something softly that must have been an apology of some kind, because Ukyo accepted it with a nod and a dismissive shrug.

"It's okay," Ukyo said, flipping him a fresh okonomiyaki that he caught between two fingers. "Might have done the same in your shoes, hon. Don't beat yourself up over it." Ryoga gave her a small, grateful smile.

Nabiki missed the rest of their conversation as she got up and moved to intercept Akane on her way over to the Snow Woman. "Okay," she said in a conspiratorial whisper. "You have to tell me what happened when you found Ryoga."

"Nothing that you haven't already guessed," Akane said in her new, infuriatingly calm manner. Nabiki grit her teeth. This new aspect of Akane was going to take some getting used to. She was about to ask Akane what exactly she thought she had guessed, when Akane turned to her and said, "Hey, Nabiki, can you help me out? I've got some wounds that need cleaning and dressing. My foot and my back, mostly. Do you have a minute?"

Nabiki couldn't help but admire Akane's deft change of subject, even as she laughed at the absurdity of the question. "Do I have a minute? I come traipsing across half a continent just to get you back, and now that you _are_ back, you have to ask me that? Follow me, I've got a complete first aid kit."

They went into her tent, closed the flaps, and Akane carefully stripped off her upper tunic and her boots, hissing in pain as she inadvertently reopened wounds. Nabiki looked at her, feeling herself pale slightly. "What," she asked, "in the hell did that to you?"

"Spider demon," Akane said, turning her back to Nabiki so that she could have better access to the deep, thin slices scattered across her back. "Had really spiky -- Ow! Dammit, take it easy," she griped as Nabiki poured half her bottle of rubbing alcohol over the worst of the cuts.

"Big baby," Nabiki chided. "Don't worry, the worst is over. Now hold still. You squirm around like a toddler."

"Only because you have the bedside manner of a rabid weasel," Akane retorted, but Nabiki could hear the smile in her voice. Nabiki surprised herself at being able to keep up a constant stream of teasing banter that was only barely holding back the horror of what she saw on her sister's back as she cleaned off the dried blood. Beneath the fresh wounds, old scars. Deep scars. Scars that looked like they might once have been life threatening. And still, they were chatting, ribbing each other back and forth as if they were little kids, back at the dojo, and Akane had come to her because she had tripped and sprained her ankle or gotten a sliver in her finger. And of course, she only came to Nabiki if Kasumi was off running errands, and Nabiki always pretended to be put out, but her big secret was that she liked those few times when Akane had come to her and she got to play nurse for her violent tomboy little sister....

...and she didn't realize that she had stopped and that she was crying until Akane turned, wiped the tears from her cheek with her hand, and pulled her forward until their foreheads were resting against each other. Akane was crying too, but she was saying, "It's okay, Nabiki. It's over, and I'm okay."

It took Nabiki a few minutes to collect herself again, and then, when she resumed cleaning Akane's wounds, including a nasty puncture wound in her foot that Dr. Tofu would definitely need to take a look at when they got home, she did so in silence, struggling to get her mask back in place. Akane didn't seem to mind.

When she was through, she showed Akane that she'd brought along some of her clothes that she could change into, but they both quickly realized that Akane no longer fit in any of her old clothes. "I'm going to have to go shopping for... for everything," Akane said. "Daddy's going to have a fit."

"Not this time, I think," Nabiki said.

Akane ended up wearing a change of Nabiki's clothes, which, while still too small, was at least more comfortable. She still had to wear her bloodied boots, though.

Nabiki fished out a comb and brush from her pack and, without being asked, attacked the tangled mane of Akane's hair. At first Akane protested, but it was only a half-hearted protest, and they sat together in companionable silence while Nabiki worked away the knots and tangles and combed out the dried blood.

"Wow," Nabiki said when she was finally finished. "You're hair's longer than Kasumi's."

Akane fingered a lock of her hair distractedly. "I wonder if I should cut it when I get home."

Nabiki shook her head. "Wait," she said. "Wait until... until Ranma gets back."

Akane nodded. "You're right. I will." She stood and stretched as best she could in the small confines of the tent. "Thanks, Nabiki. I feel so much better."

"Any time," she said, meaning it. "You aren't sleeping in here?" she asked, as Akane lifted the flap to leave the tent. "Ukyo and I got a three person tent so you'd have a place to sleep on the way home."

"That's okay," she replied. "There's no way I can sleep my first night back home. I'm going to stay with Yuki-san and Ranma for a while."

The flap fell, and Nabiki laid down on her sleeping bag. She found herself staring up at the tent ceiling feeling utterly exhausted, and utterly incapable of falling asleep. But she didn't get up. She lay there, listening to the noises of her friends moving around the camp outside, and simply enjoyed the feeling of being at peace for the first time in a long, long time.

-----------------

Akane knew that Yuki-onna felt her silent approach, because as she drew close, the Snow Woman opened her eyes, smiled sadly at her, and made room so that she could take a seat beside her in the vigil over Ranma's frozen body. They sat in silence, watching as her friends eventually set up their tents and attempted to get some sleep. At one point, Kuno approached her and offered her his tent, informing her that he and Ryoga had agreed to share a tent, but she smiled and thanked him (silently boggling at the idea of Ryoga and Kuno coming to such an agreement), and politely refused. Kuno accepted the refusal reluctantly but graciously. She couldn't help but shake her head as he walked away. If anyone had asked, she thought she might be hard pressed to declare which of the two of them had been more changed by this whole adventure.

She wondered just how much sleep anyone would get, if any, but then the sound of light snoring drifted from the tents in the clearing, confirming that her friends were getting a little sleep at least.

"Yuki-san," she said finally.

"Yes, Akane-chan."

"Ranma promised that he would come back to me. That he would defeat death itself to return to me."

"Yes."

"I believe he will do it. I think he will succeed."

"As do I."

"But..." she said. Her voice cracked, trembled. "But there is a small, infinitesimal chance that..."

Yuki-onna remained silent.

"How long..." She swallowed, cleared her throat and struggled against tears. Altogether too much crying today. "How long do I wait? How will I know if the reason he hasn't yet returned is because he is still striving for success, or... because he has failed?"

"There is no way to know," Yuki-onna whispered. "Even if I still had my mirror, the realm of the dead has always been blocked to my view."

"So." Akane digested this silently. "I just wait."

"Yes."

Akane looked up at small patch of sky visible through the clearing. The peak of the Mountain of the Ancient One was just barely visible through the clouds. Every now and then, as the cloud masses shifted in their dance across the sky, she caught a glimmer of starlight.

"Forever, then," she said. "If that's what it takes."

Yuki-onna closed her eyes.

Akane reached out and took Ranma's stiff, frozen hand in hers, refusing to flinch from the cold. "You hear that, you stubborn, insensitive jerk?" she whispered. "I'll wait for you forever."

There was no response. Akane held his cold, unmoving hand until the growing pale light of dawn began to obliterate the stars from the sky.

-----------------

Ranma was in Hell. And he felt pretty good about it.

Admittedly, the only reason he felt good about it was because he had no intention of staying. It wasn't exactly the kind of place he wanted to spend more than, say, twenty minutes in. Half an hour tops. And not because he was scared. Nope. Wasn't scared. Not a bit.

Okay, so the river that brought him here, before forcefully expelling him onto the river bank in a violent scarlet geyser, flowed with thick, clotting blood rather than water. He'd managed to wipe most of it from his face and wring it from his hair and sluice it from his clothes, but he still felt pretty gross, and on top of that, the smell was nauseating. As for the rest of the scenery, the sky was a starless void from which emanated a faint but constant screaming. The bank of the river was choked with gnarled, thorny briars and leafless black trees. And just beyond the trees, an endless stretch of wasteland.

Then, of course, there were all the dead people.

As far as Ranma could tell, there were two types of dead people in Hell that he had observed so far. First, there were the dead people who came out of the river. Covered in so much blood it was sometimes hard to tell if they were male or female, they were dragged unwillingly out of the river by black meter-long chains emerging from their wrists and feet. They were pulled screaming and weeping and moaning, tugged along by the living chains like demented marionettes being forced to dance by some invisible puppet master, through the black brambles and out into the wasteland.

Okay, he thought. So maybe that was a _little_ unnerving. What did a guy do in life to end up like _that_? Not really sure he wanted to know.

Then there were the other ghosts. The kind he'd always heard about in ghost stories and saw in bad horror movies. Draped in white, skin pale like bleached bone, disheveled black hair, dark eyes wide and rolling madly, drifting aimlessly over the ground because they had no feet.

But when it came down to it, Ranma wasn't the kind of guy who got all shook up over creepy landscapes and moaning ghosts. He'd played video games that were scarier than this place. And he'd _been_ a nasty-looking ghost himself just a little while ago, and quite frankly, he put quite a few of these other guys to shame.

Now all he had to do was get one of these fellow dead guys to help him out.

He decided to leave the bloody puppet guys alone. All of them were too busy screaming and fighting to really talk to anyway, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to get a coherent answer out of them. So he walked up to one of the pale ghosts that was hunching over, drifting through the dead black trees.

"Hey," he said, "uh... how are ya?"

The ghost turned toward him, and he was irritated to see that the ghost's face was hidden by long, tangled black hair. But at least he seemed to have its attention. "I'm kinda new here," he said, plowing on in spite of the surreal absurdity of the situation. In Hell, talking to a ghost, asking for directions. "I'm looking for Emma-O, and I'm in hurry. Can you, uh, tell me which way I should go or something?"

The ghost raised its head -- Ranma still couldn't tell if it was a guy or a girl -- and the hair parted to reveal one bulging eye. Its mouth opened and a long, pointed purple tongue unfurled and fell to the ghost's waist. "Gnaaaaaaaah..." it said.

Ranma backed up slowly. "Okay..." he said, "I'm guessing that's a 'no.'" He glanced around, looking at other pale ghosts drifting by, and wondered if they all had long dangling tongues that made speaking a problem. If so, this was going to suck. He didn't want to head out into Hell's wilderness without knowing how to get to the big guy in charge and end up going in the wrong direction. He didn't have time to waste getting lost. He needed to find Emma-O and convince the god to bring him back to life so he could get back to Akane as soon as possible.

"I don't suppose you could at least point me in the general direction?" he tried again. The ghost responded by raising its hands and going for his neck. "Whoa!" Ranma grabbed the ghost's ice-cold, clammy hands, suddenly really wishing he knew if this ghost was a guy or a girl. If it was a guy, it was about to get pounded to a pulp. "Knock it off. You don't want to tell me, fine, but don't pull any of this spooky gonna-get-you crap or I'll have to kick your ass." The single exposed eye glared, and the long tongue started to waggle up toward his face. "Blech!" Ranma pushed the ghost away in disgust. "Okay, that's it, guy or girl, you try to lick me and the other ghosts will be scraping you off the trees." He put his hands together, his ki building between his palms, preparing to blast it to pieces if it tried to come near again.

It didn't. It dropped its hands, furled its tongue, and turned away.

Okay, obviously being polite was getting him nowhere. Apparently the wrong tactic to use in Hell, he thought wryly. He looked around again, hoping to spot a ghost that was obviously a guy, wondering if maybe he could get the information through force.

"You don't belong here," said a voice behind him.

Ranma whirled and found himself looking down at a really short ghost. A kid, he realized, getting a good look at him, probably seven or eight years old. Pale and floating like the others, but with hair short enough that he could see the kid's face. Unlike the other ghosts, the kid was minus the bulging crazy eyes, though they were still deep and completely black, like a bird's, which was a little bit unnerving in and of itself.

"You should leave," the kid continued in bleak tones. "Go back. Find your ancestors. You don't belong in Hell."

"Well," said Ranma, grateful that the kid could at least talk and seemed to have a normal tongue, "I'd like to get out of here, but the only way I'm doing that is by seeing Emma-O first."

To Ranma's surprise, the kid barked a short laugh. "Emma-O? _That's_ why you came here? Why in all the seven hells would you want to see _him_?"

"Because," Ranma said with all the authority he could muster, "he's going to bring me back to life."

The kid looked up at him, black eyes fathomless. "You want to be reincarnated?" he said, somewhat incredulously.

"No," Ranma said, getting irritated. "He's going to bring me back to my old life. The one I had before I died."

The ghost kid actually boggled. "You are out of your mind," he said. "He's never going to do that."

Ranma's eyes narrowed. There was something weird about this kid -- more than just the obvious weird of being one of these pale ghosts.

Aside from the ghost's verbosity in the face of all his silent or groaning companions, through their brief conversation, Ranma felt the feline part of his soul stir a little. It had come out of hiding the moment he was no longer suffering sensory deprivation under the kuei curse, and now he realized... he could s_mell_ something. Down, deep under the choking smell of the blood river and the blood that still partially coated him, this ghost kid standing in front of him... smelled. More than that, he smelled _familiar_.

But he couldn't put his finger on why. He wasn't used to having that particular sense be so, well, sensitive. He was about to ask the kid just who in the hell he was when the kid waved his ghostly arms, gesturing at the pale ghosts around them. "See these people? Do you know why we're here? Not because of any wrong we did in life, but because we died violent deaths. Because of the way we died, we're tied to the mortal realm, and we go there, and we haunt. We haunt because that's all we can do unless some clever mortal figures out how to release our souls from this curse, and if we're released, we can finally leave this place and join our ancestors. But do you know how often that happens?" He glared up at Ranma. Ranma just blinked and shook his head. "Hardly ever!" the kid continued. "No, rather than trying to figure out why a ghost is haunting their house or inn or hot spring or mountain path, they hire a priest, and the priest slaps a god name on our foreheads which exorcises us and sends us back here. Look."

The kid pointed at his forehead, and Ranma could see a faint black scar in the shape of a kanji. "Can't go back until this is gone completely," the kid said. "And then what are the chances that a mortal will decide to try to help rather than just call another exorcist?"

"Well," Ranma said, "when you go back, can't you just... talk to people? The way you're talking to me? Seems better than doing the whole creepy moaning ghost thing."

The kid shook his head. "Doesn't work that way. And do you know why? Because those are the rules."

Ah. Ranma was getting the picture, and he didn't much like it. It was reminding him of the rules he had been bound by when he was under the kuei curse. He was starting to feel pretty sorry for the kid. "They don't seem like very fair rules," he said.

"And that," said the ghost kid, raising an index finger for emphasis, "is my point precisely. The rules aren't fair. And who do you think made those rules? The rules that govern the dead?"

Ranma sighed. "Emma-O."

The kid nodded, seeming satisfied. "So like I said. You'd be better off joining your ancestors than trying to get your old life back. Emma-O made his rules and he sticks to them. See that man?" The kid pointed to the bloody river as it frothed. Black chains broke the surface, dragging a terrified man by his wrists and feet. "That man was a murderer. He killed an innocent. Emma-O deals with people like him directly. They see him, and he judges them and sends them to spend a few eons sitting in a boiling pot of molten metal. He doesn't bother with anyone who _should_ have gone down the other fork of the river," he said, looking deliberately at Ranma, "and even if he did, he wouldn't deal with you by helping you."

Ranma stared at the bloody man as the chains dragged him out of the river and through the black thorns, heading for the trees and the wasteland beyond. "He's going to see Emma-O? All of these guys with the chains are going to see Emma-O?"

"Yes," the kid acknowledged grimly.

Ranma grinned. "Thanks, kid. That's just what I needed to know." And with that, he took off running past the thorns and dead trees, pausing only long enough to gauge the direction the chained ghosts were being dragged across the wasteland before he was off running again.

The ghost kid stared after him in stunned amazement. Then he clenched his fists and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Ranma," he shouted, "you _idiot!_"

Ranma was already too far away to hear.

-----------------

Ranma ran as fast as he could, and tried not to think too hard about the dead guys who were leading the way. Murderers, the kid had said, and he ran past three of the bloody, screaming puppet men, giving them a wide berth. How many murderers were there in Japan? he wondered. And how did so many of them happen to die right now? There were at least five more ahead of him, all shambling in the same direction over dead flat ground, toward some hills in the distance. Hopefully toward Emma-O, if the kid was right.

But he didn't want to think about the dead guys. He ran, feeling grateful that in the afterlife, free of his kuei curse, he felt alive again. His feet made solid impact against the ground, he could feel his muscles pumping as he strained for more speed, and he felt the swift exhalation of his own breath against his face. His senses were back in full force and he reveled in their return after their absence, even if what he was sensing wasn't all that pleasant. So maybe being a spirit in the spirit realm was just like being alive in the mortal realm, he thought. At least if you weren't cursed to be a hungry ghost, or heading for some kind of punishment.

But most of all, as he ran, he thought of Akane. He wondered what she was doing right now, if she was doing okay even though he had left her alone with his dead body on the Ancient One's mountain. He wondered if she would be okay climbing down through all those demons and the kuei at the base of the mountain. But then, she had spent five years in the Kami realm dealing with the kind of demons who were on that mountain on a constant basis. He had witnessed her kick-ass skill for himself, and so he had to believe that she would be okay. Maybe the Ancient One would help her out. The old dragon still owed them, in Ranma's opinion.

And once she got to the base of the mountain and met up with their friends, carrying his body, what then?

He didn't know, but he couldn't imagine it being a good thing. His friends had come to support him on his quest to save Akane, and she was returning with his corpse and a story that he was coming back to life. No matter how he thought about it, he just couldn't imagine it going well.

But most importantly, he didn't want Akane to grieve. He didn't want his friends to grieve. He had promised Akane that he was coming back, and he kept his promises, dammit, no matter what.

And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that not only did he need to come back to life, he needed to do it _fast_. Too much time had already been lost. Akane had suffered too much already, and his friends had sacrificed so much to help him. Leaving Akane and the others hanging, wondering when and if he would succeed in keeping his promise to return, was unacceptable. Maybe, if he was fast enough, he could even come back to life before Akane left the mountain, and they could fight their way back down to their friends together.

So Ranma ran, these thoughts lending even greater urgency to his mission.

After a while, he reached the hills he had seen from a distance, and he sprinted to the top of one large hill, hoping he would be able to see where he needed to go next. He was surprised to see that his destination was just on the other side.

After the bleakness of the bloody river and the wasteland, Emma-O's home was a surprise. Ranma wasn't quite sure what he was expecting -- maybe something with a skeleton motif, or maybe torture chamber-style decorations. Not this shimmering jewel-encrusted palace, perched on a grassy island surrounded by a lake of water that glowed with soft golden light. Ranma looked it over critically. For a god who was supposed to be lord of the dead, the guy sure seemed to like his earthly riches.

A wide scarlet bridge spanned the lake, leading directly to the large golden doors of the palace. The doors were open, as if in invitation. Come on in, enjoy the glitzy decor and impressive architecture before you get sent to writhe in eternal agony. What had that kid said? Molten metal?

Ranma looked behind him, back across the wasteland. In the distance, he could see two of the bloody puppet guys that he had quickly passed once he caught sight of the palace. They were far away, and lurching along slowly enough that it would be a while before they made it to the gate. Hopefully that would give him the time he needed to talk to Emma-O without interruption. He wanted Emma-O to be in a good mood, and he had no idea if punishing murderers with endless torment made the god grouchy. He rather hoped it did, because he didn't know if he liked the idea of trying to make a deal with a guy who enjoyed that depth of human suffering, even if it was well deserved.

He descended the hill quickly, ran across the scarlet bridge, and came to a stop before the open golden doors. He took a deep breath to steady himself. This was his only chance to succeed. He couldn't blow it. "Okay," he said. "Here goes nothin'."

He passed through the entrance and found himself in a vast hall. Torch light flickered on walls that seemed to be encrusted with diamonds. Pearls the size of his fist lined arches overhead, from which hung silken purple and scarlet drapes that fell to floor. Ranma couldn't help wondering who the hell this guy was trying to impress. As he walked silently down the hall, navigating between the falls of silk, he wondered if he would meet any resistance from guards or servants, but so far the place seemed deserted.

Or maybe not. Up ahead, where the glow of torch light grew brighter, he could hear voices. He strained to listen. One voice was faint, pleading, and a bit whiny. The other was deep, commanding, and aggravated. Ranma was betting the second voice was Emma-O.

Just great. Was someone already there ahead of him, putting the god in a bad mood? Not what he needed. Quickly, silently, but carefully so as not to stir the drapes with his movements, he made his way closer until finally he started catching glimpses through the silk of a tall man sitting on a throne. Not just tall, he realized as he edged closer and cautiously peeked around a scarlet drape. Big. Like two or three times the size of a normal human. He wore the ancient robes of a judge, and his immaculate black, pointed beard fell to his chest. Next to the god was a large pedestal upon which rested the biggest scroll Ranma had ever seen, encased in gold inlaid with lapis lazuli. The scroll was open, and Emma-O appeared as if he were trying to read it. Except that the first voice, whose owner Ranma couldn't see, was talking.

"Please, I beg you, listen to me!" the voice pleaded, and there was a strange quality to the voice, a thinness, that Ranma recognized. He had heard it before, twice, on the mountain of the Ancient One. Once, when the Snow Woman spoke to him while she was fighting Cologne from her domain in the Kami realm. The second time when he had heard Akane's voice calling him through the dimensional veil. "I am the victim of trickery, you must believe me!"

"There has been trickery indeed," Emma-O rumbled, scowling over the scroll. "And you are a fool if you think I shall fall for it a second time. Now, for the last time, be silent."

"How can I be silent when you ignore this injustice that has befallen me? That you yourself have brought upon me? I tell you, I am not Susa-no-o! How many times do I have to explain? I am Hoso-no-kami, and Susa-no-o has tricked you, tricked the entire council! You must let me out!"

Ranma grimaced. Apparently he had just walked in on an argument between gods. _This can't be good_, he thought.

"I must do nothing of the sort," Emma-O said firmly. Ranma noticed that a vein was starting to bulge on the god's forehead.

Emma-O's response brought on a new deluge of near-frantic pleading and begging from the being who was apparently either Susa-no-o, or Hoso-no-kami, whoever the hell they were. Either way, it wasn't good for Ranma because he could see Emma-O's face slowly flushing, and one giant fist clenching tight.

"ENOUGH!" Emma-O slammed his fist on the scroll's pedestal, causing the scroll to jump a good meter into the air before clattering back down. "You WILL be silent, trickster! If you think you can get out of Yomi by annoying me, you are wrong. Do not think I have forgotten your last sojourn to the seventh hell. You thought I would let you go if you read your abysmal haiku constantly for the space of many years, but you failed!" Emma-O stood and raised his fist, glaring downward, presumably toward whatever dimension the other voice was trapped in. "Your foolish attempts at deception WILL NOT ANNOY ME!"

Ranma couldn't help it. He snorted, wondering what Emma-O was like when he was actually annoyed.

Emma-O looked up sharply, and he quickly spotted Ranma behind the silks. "You!" he demanded, pointing at him with the hand that had just been clenched in a fist. "Come here!"

_Well, this is it_, Ranma thought, straightening and thinking of Akane. _Remember... be diplomatic. _With that thought, he stepped forward into Emma-O's court.

The god's eyes widened slightly in surprise as he saw him, then he glared. "You don't belong here, boy. What do you want? Why have you not joined your ancestors?"

Ranma bowed deeply before Emma-O. "Because, oh your most high, uh, eminence." He winced, wondering exactly how you were supposed to address the god of the dead, but continued. "I want to be restored to life."

There was silence. Then, Emma-O said, "Really."

"Yeah." Ranma glanced up from his bow. Emma-O's face was devoid of any expression he could read. "I, uh, I was told that you were the guy to see about this."

"And who told you this?"

Ranma blinked. Not the question he was expecting. "It was a Chinese dragon," he said, straightening from his bow. "The Ancient One." He suddenly hoped that was actually the dragon's name, and that he hadn't just told Emma-O that it was just some really old dragon.

But Emma-O looked surprised. Then his eyes narrowed, and he peered at Ranma intently as he reached for the scroll on the pedestal. "What is your name, mortal?"

Ranma barely managed to suppress the smirk that usually manifested in his expression whenever he introduced himself. _Diplomatic,_ he thought to himself forcefully, Akane's face in his mind. _No cockiness_. He cleared his throat. "I'm--"

"--just leaving!"

Ranma and Emma-O both stared as the pale ghost kid rushed into the court in a most unghostly manner, silks billowing in his wake, grabbed Ranma by the arm, and began pulling him out of the room with a supernatural strength that took Ranma completely by surprise. "So sorry to disturb you, oh glorious one, we'll just be on our way now, don't worry, I'll make sure he gets to where he needs to be. His ancestors are waiting!"

"Hey!" Ranma protested, and planted his feet, stopping their progress before moving to slip out of the kid's inhumanly strong grip. To his surprise, the kid countered, and just as he realized just how unordinary this little ghost was, and that he was actually in for a real battle just to get free, Emma-O brought everything to a halt.

"You dare!" the god raged, and to Ranma's relief, Emma-O's fury seemed directed at the ghost kid rather than him. "You dare appear before me wearing a disguise? I will not tolerate such trickery!" And with that, Emma-O raised his hand, pointed at the ghost, and suddenly Ranma found himself looking eye to bird-black-eye with a tengu.

A tengu that, he realized with a shock, he recognized.

And apparently so did Emma-O. "Masakazu!" he bellowed.

"Hey," Ranma said, "I know you!"

"Good," said Masakazu. "Run."

"But I have to--"

The tengu grabbed him by the shoulders, looked him in the eye, and said, "Trust me."

Ranma glanced at Emma-O. The deity's face was starting to purple as he shook with rage.

Cursing angrily, Ranma ran. Masakazu followed right behind.

Once out of the palace, the tengu took the lead. "Follow me," he said, "and don't look back."

Ranma didn't look back. He kept his eyes fixed on the back of the red-feathered head of the tengu and thought about how the only reason he wasn't beating the strange creature up for destroying his chances of persuading Emma-O to bring him back to life was because he remembered him.

He remembered that the tengu had come to him in a dream, had sealed the spell voices from his mind and had encouraged him to keep searching for Akane. He remembered that when he was trapped in the Nekoken, this tengu had come and had tried to save him from the Shadowcat. Had banished the Shadowcat back to the Kami realm. But not before the Shadowcat had dealt him a fatal wound.

So, as angry as he was, Ranma figured that you just can't beat up a guy who gave his life trying to save yours.

But that didn't mean that, as soon as they were through running, he didn't intend to get some answers.

-----------------

Emma-O watched the two intruders go, fuming silently. It took a while to calm down and once again regain his center of rational calm, but the blessed silence from Yomi helped. Masakazu had obviously come in a futile effort to free Susa-no-o, his oft-time partner in crime, who had quieted as soon as the strange human boy's presence had been known. No doubt now sulking that his rescue attempt had been thwarted, Emma-O thought with satisfaction.

Masakazu could run as far as he liked, but it would never be far enough. He would face judgment soon enough.

Now, as for that mortal boy... Emma-O looked at the scroll which spun under his outstretched fingers. It came to a stop, and his finger fell on a name. Ranma Saotome.

He sat on his throne and contemplated. So this mortal whelp was one of the humans who had stirred up so much trouble with the Kami realm. He didn't think he wanted a human such as this wandering loose in his domain.

"So," he said aloud. "He wants to be restored to life?" With a thought, he summoned Tensei-kaze.

A loud rushing sound roared outside the palace, and moments later the silks hanging in the great hall twisted and writhed as if caught in a storm. Tensei-kaze, barely visible, long hair streaming behind her, flew into the court. Faceless, the Wind of Reincarnation bowed before Emma-O.

"Find this boy," Emma-O instructed, pointing to the name on the scroll. "Set him on the path of rebirth."

Tensei-kaze whispered voiceless through the hall. The silks fluttered.

Emma-O pondered a moment. "A cat," he answered finally, then he smiled, utterly without warmth. "He had a feline taint about him. It seems fitting."

Tensei-kaze bowed in obedience and flew out of the palace in search of Ranma Saotome.

-----------------

Masakazu led Ranma all the way back across the wasteland to the banks of the roiling, bloody river, when the tengu finally stopped and turned to face him. "We have to fly from here. You'll need to climb on my back."

Ranma eyed the tengu suspiciously. "Where are we going?"

"Back to the start. Back to the river before it forks."

Ranma shook his head and crossed his arms defiantly. "Look," he said seriously, "you know, I appreciate what you've done. I remember what you did for me with the blood spell, and how you fought the Shadowcat and sent it packing. It killed you, and I'm sorry. It killed me too, but if it makes you feel any better, I killed it back."

Masakazu snorted a laugh. "That does make me feel better, actually."

"Good." Ranma couldn't help a grin, but then forced himself back on topic. "But I am _not_ going to join up with my ancestors, no matter what you say, so you might as well give up on that."

The tengu sighed. "I know... I know. If I had realized exactly what had happened to you, and if I had known about your promise to Akane, I never would have wasted time trying to convince you to go."

Ranma blinked. "Wait, how do you know about that?"

Masakazu's eyes glinted. "I did what I should have done in the first place, instead of trying to be your unobtrusive guide in the afterlife. I peeked while we were running away from Emma-O."

Ranma frowned. He didn't like being confused. "Whaddya mean 'peeked'?"

The tengu pointed to Ranma's head with a feathered finger. "I looked inside your mind. Saw your memories. I now understand why you want to return to life, but I promise you, what I said before is true. Emma-O is not the one who will do that for you."

Ranma really didn't like the idea of this tengu, friend or not, poking around inside his head. "Uh, I'm glad you understand now and all, but don't do that again," he said, scowling. The tengu merely nodded. Only somewhat satisfied, Ranma continued. "And if Emma-O won't bring me back to life, who will? I thought Emma-O was the only one who could do it."

"He is," said Masakazu, "but I have an idea."

Ranma looked at him, surprised. "Really?"

"Yes, but it involves you climbing on my back so we can fly back to the river before it forks, preferably before Emma-O, or whatever he decided to send after us, catches us."

"Ah," Ranma said, glancing back over his shoulder at the expanse of wasteland. He didn't see anything, but that didn't necessarily mean there wasn't something there. "Why didn't you say so in the first place? Let's go."

The tengu wore a long cloak of woven leaves and pine boughs, which was far from comfortable, but Ranma didn't complain. The tengu leaped into the air with Ranma clinging piggy-back, and they flew up and over the river, heading upstream.

"Can't you go any faster?" Ranma asked. They weren't going slow by any means, but they had run faster than the tengu was flying.

"No, because you weigh a ton," Masakazu said irritably. "Now listen to me. When you first surfaced in the river, you saw three forks, correct? Not just two?"

"Yeah," Ranma said, sliding a little and trying to get a better grip without choking the tengu. "But how do you know that? I thought I said no more peeking!"

"I know because you told me yourself. You asked me, 'Where does that middle fork go?'" That took me by surprise because humans can't see that middle fork. It doesn't even really exist for humans, because it leads to the realm of the souls of beasts and all creatures of the earth, where they await reincarnation."

Ranma processed that silently, absorbing the implications of what the tengu was saying. It was the Nekoken, of course. The part of him that was apparently irretrievably feline. He had been able to see the middle fork because his soul was part beast.

Then he started. "Wait," he said, realizing. "That chick on the bank of the river was you too?"

"Yes," Masakazu said. "As I mentioned, I was trying to be an unobtrusive guide for you, to help you make the transition from life to afterlife with your ancestors. But then you deliberately headed for Hell, making me chase after you... to be frank, I thought you'd gone crazy."

Ranma laughed shortly. "So you disguised yourself as one of those pale ghosts and tried to talk me into going back."

"Exactly. And I'll be honest, Ranma, I would still prefer that you join your ancestors, but I already know you won't simply because you gave your promise to Akane. So that leaves us with my idea. What we're about to do... it's very risky. I don't even know if it will work."

"If _what_ will work?" Ranma asked, getting increasingly agitated. "What's your idea?"

"Within the realm of the souls of beasts," said Masakazu, "is a holy place where there burns an eternal, sacred flame. It is the place where the Phoenix is reborn, the ashes of its former body restored again to perfection."

Ranma understood immediately, and felt a sudden thrill of excitement. "Hey, so if I can enter that middle fork and reach that flame..."

"You _might_ be restored to life," Masakazu said firmly. "Or you might give yourself a really bad burn. You're not a phoenix, Ranma. It could work, but no one has ever done anything like this before."

"What, you mean no animal, other than the phoenix, has ever jumped into the flame?"

Masakazu snorted. "No other animal is crazy enough to want to return to the life they just departed. They are perfectly content to wait for reincarnation, and perhaps a better lot in the next life, but not the phoenix. Constantly burning herself up, being reborn, and burning herself up again. Just for fun. Absolutely bonkers, that bird."

Ranma thought about that. "So... is this my best chance to keep my promise to Akane?"

Masakazu sighed. "Your only chance. I believe so, yes."

Ranma grinned fiercely. "Then let's do it."

Masakazu just shook his head and flew on.

After a while, the tengu said, "Look behind us. I hear something."

Ranma craned his head to look around. All he could see was the bloody river stretching out behind them, the river bank lined with the dead black trees. "I don't see anything."

"Nothing at all? No movement?"

"Nothing," Ranma said, squinting in an effort to see farther. "Just the trees moving in the wind off in the distance."

Masakazu swore colorfully.

"What?" Ranma said, baffled. "What's wrong?"

"There is only one wind in the realm of the dead," the tengu answered. "Tensei-kaze. No doubt Emma-O sent her after us."

Ranma felt a sudden sick dread -- the first real thread of fear he'd felt since he had emerged from the river. "Look, man, I don't want to be reincarnated."

"So we need to get to the sacred flame before she catches us."

Ranma focused on the movement of trees far behind them. "Uh, I might be seeing things, but I think she's gaining on us."

"Hang on. We're almost there."

Ranma looked ahead and saw that the pitch black of the sky was giving way to daylight ahead. The urgency he had felt before, the need to succeed in returning to life quickly for the sake of Akane, was suddenly magnified tenfold as he realized that returning to life might be the only thing that could save him from Emma-O's revenge. "Hurry," he said, trying to keep the growing panic he felt out of his voice.

Masakazu didn't bother to respond.

Soon, though not soon enough for Ranma's comfort, they were back at the beginning, above the wide river where newly dead souls were surfacing in the water. By now, Ranma could hear what Masakazu had heard -- the sound of the wind howling up the river fork that led to hell. She was close. _We're not going to make it,_ Ranma realized. The wind was too fast. She had already closed the distance between them. But he had to try.

And as for the middle fork...

"Are you ready?" Masakazu called over the sound of the approaching wind. "Can you see it?"

Ranma looked. He could, but it was like before. The middle fork was like an optical illusion that he could only see out of the corner of his eye. "I can sort of see it, but not really. It keeps disappearing on me! What do I do?"

"Are you using the Nekoken?" Masakazu asked.

Ranma cursed his stupidity. Of course he would need to be actually using the Nekoken to see the path to the beast realm. With a thought, he summoned that feline part of him, bringing it to the surface.

He gasped.

He hadn't really used the Nekoken properly since killing the Shadowcat, right before he died. He had almost forgotten what it felt like. Power flooded through him, and his senses sang. The middle fork snapped into view like finally spotting the picture hidden in those weird 3-D paintings. "There!" he shouted, and his voice had a rasp to it that surprised him. "I see it, go! Go!"

As Masakazu dove toward the middle fork of the river, Ranma looked down the bloody river to Hell and saw the wind coming. It was close enough that he could see her, a near-transparent, faceless woman shape flying directly toward them with unnerving speed.

Then, abruptly, she stopped. Ranma saw her as she hesitated. Her faceless head turned back and forth, as if searching.

"Ha!" said Masakazu. "That did it. It's you she's after, not me, thank the gods, but she doesn't recognize you when you're fully immersed in the Nekoken. You just bought us some time, but we still need to hurry, she won't be fooled for long."

Ranma reminded himself to breathe. He didn't care what caused the reprieve, as long as they had one. "Just go!" he shouted -- unnecessarily, since Masakazu was flying at full speed -- and he realized his mouth felt funny. Probing the inside of his mouth with his tongue, he was startled to discover that his teeth were thin and sharp. Looking at his arms, he saw that they now sported a fine covering of black fur. _What the hell?_

"Ow, take it easy," Masakazu snapped at him. "You seem to have grown claws, so ease up on your grip, if you don't mind."

"What the hell happened to me?" Ranma yelled back, forcing himself to relax his grip on the tengu slightly.

"Nothing to worry about," the tengu soothed. "Souls here almost always outwardly reflect the inner state."

Ranma blinked. That was weird; but more importantly.... "So when I come back to life, this isn't going to happen every time I use the Nekoken?"

Masakazu laughed. "No. If you actually pull this off and return to life, you'll look perfectly human even in the Nekoken."

Ranma couldn't help the sigh of relief. The last thing he needed when he got back was another shape-changing curse. And it made a little more sense that calling up the Nekoken had managed to throw off the reincarnation wind. Hopefully it would throw her off for a long time.

And, thought Ranma, looking down at the landscape that was revealing itself before them the farther they flew, the animal afterlife certainly seemed a lot nicer than Hell. Rolling green hills, thick leafy forests, lakes, and in the distance, pine covered mountains. And was that an ocean glinting on the horizon?

Everywhere, animals. Ranma thought it looked like a zoo had exploded. Herds of animals, dotting the landscape. Flocks of birds in the sky. He found himself wondering if there were bugs too.

But he didn't get a chance to appreciate scenery and the local wildlife. Masakazu landed on the bank of the river as soon as they were far enough into the realm of beasts that they couldn't see the other parts of the river looking back. "Now," said Masakazu, "follow me and run."

They ran. Masakazu led him into a forest so thick with large trees that the sky was blotted out by the leafy canopy. The forest floor was springy under their step with layers of fallen leaves and grass. He could almost smell how ancient this place was.

They ran, and Ranma felt utterly exhilarated. He had never in his entire life moved so fast on two feet, even dodging and weaving between the trees. And he quickly came to realize, as Masakazu kept pace with him, that the tengu had been holding back for his benefit during their sprint across Hell's wasteland.

He suddenly wondered if the tengu was holding back even now and decided to put it to the test with an extra burst of speed. He sped past Masakazu, who just as quickly called after him.

"Yes, you're faster, Ranma, but is now the time to be showing off when you're not the one who knows the way to the sacred flame?"

Duly chastened, Ranma let Masakazu take the lead. "Sorry," he said.

"Less talk, more running. We still have a long way to go."

And then, in the distance, beneath the sound of bird song and animal chatter, Ranma heard the high wailing of an approaching wind.

He felt his stomach drop. "Do you hear that?" he asked.

"I'm hearing a lot of things right now, Ranma, so please be more specific."

"It's her, that wind," Ranma said. Now he could feel the hair stand up on the back of his neck... and all the way down his back. Ugh. He shuddered. "I think she figured out what happened."

Masakazu glanced at him, startled. "Well, if you're hearing her before I hear her, that means we've still got some time, but it will be close."

Ranma nodded. "Right. Less talk, more running."

_Ultimate Saotome Secret Technique,_ he thought. _Don't fail me now_.

Ranma lost track of time. He focused so completely on running, on not faltering, on keeping exact pace with Masakazu, that he could no longer tell how long they had been running. Half an hour? Half a day? All he knew was that the wail of the wind was growing ever louder behind them, and so he almost missed it when Masakazu whispered, "We made it."

And they burst into a clearing. The clearing was at least fifty meters across, perfectly circular. In the center, a magnificent pure white bonfire of flame burned on a stone altar.

And between them and that flame, a very, very large scarlet bird. It was almost as tall as the surrounding trees.

It looked at them, spread its wings and let out an earsplitting squawk. "Intruders!" it shrieked. "Demons! Man-beasts! Tengu and cat demon! You shall not touch my fire! It is mine! MINE! I will snap you up and eat you if you come close!"

Ranma groaned. "You could have warned me that the phoenix was going to be here guarding this thing," he whispered to the tengu.

"Actually," Masakazu replied, "I was rather hoping she was still on the mortal plane. I didn't know she had burned herself up already. And even so, she usually only spends a short time here between death and rebirth."

"Just my luck to catch the crazy bird during her special time," Ranma groused.

"Your luck works both ways," the tengu replied. "Come on, let's get you to that flame."

Ranma straightened and nodded. He had the Nekoken at his command and no stupid humongous bird was going to stand in his way.

As expected, the phoenix attacked as soon as he was within striking range. Her sharp, deadly beak flashed down with intimidating speed that was meant to spear him right through, but he leaped over the attack, smashed the bird's head into the ground, and lashed out with one hand, shredding the feathers of one wildly beating wing. "Look, you dumb bird, I don't want to hurt you, but I got a promise to keep, and I will have to hurt you if you don't let me pass." In the distance, he could hear the howl of the wind getting swiftly closer. "I don't got time for this!" he shouted, wondering just how much time he had left before the wind caught up to him. He had already had one failure, dying on the Ancient One's mountain just in sight of the dragon's cave. There was no way he was going to let that wind catch him and send his soul to be reincarnated when he was in sight of the flame that could restore his life. "Let me pass," he growled, "or I'll have to pound you into the ground."

The phoenix groggily rose and glared at him hatefully. "Shadowcat! Hated, hated demon!" it hissed. "Nekoken! I know it when I see it!" She flapped her sloppily trimmed wing. "I would see my own soul utterly destroyed before I would let a slave of the Shadowcat near my sacred fire!"

Ranma sputtered furiously. "Now, look here! I ain't nobody's slave!"

"It's true," Masakazu said. "He is not a cat demon at all. He is a human, and he wields the Nekoken with his own will."

To Ranma's surprise, the bird cocked her head and looked at him with sudden interest, though without losing the baleful look in her black eyes. "Impossible," she said. "Shadowcat is a terrible demon. Hates humans, looks down on them. It would never share its power."

"Who said anything about sharing?" Ranma said, throwing out his chest. Tensei-kaze was coming, but he couldn't let this pass. "The Shadowcat is dead. I killed it. And I'm the sole master of the Nekoken!"

"Dead? What? Dead?" The phoenix fluttered, puffed out her feathers, and her head bobbed and twitched. "Shadowcat? Impossible!"

"It's true," Masakazu said again. "Ranma killed the Shadowcat. He defeated it utterly by turning the Nekoken against it. Look at me, Phoenix, see me kind to kind, as kindred spirits, and know that I speak the truth."

The phoenix looked at Masakazu, peered at him intently for a long moment. Then, she curved her neck down until her large head was right next to Ranma, one eye staring directly into his face. "Tell me," she said. "Did you kill Shadowcat Kami side or Mortal side?"

"Uh... Mortal side," Ranma said, and was about to ask what difference it made when the phoenix again rose up, wings outstretched, and she shrieked again, but this time in a piercing, warbling song of triumph. Ranma winced and covered his ears. Which were slightly pointed and furry, he noticed irritably.

"Dead! Shadowcat dead!" the phoenix crowed. "Dead forever! No pulling itself together Mortal side, oh no!" And the phoenix made a strange low warbling sound that Ranma realized was laughter.

"Okay then," Ranma said, "So, uh..."

"You go ahead and touch the flame," the phoenix said, smoothing down her feathers while looking at him with gleeful, glinting eyes. "You kill Shadowcat, you touch the sacred flame all you like. You die again, you come back any time."

Ranma blinked. "Uh... thanks," he said.

"Ranma," Masakazu warned, "listen. Tensei-kaze... she's almost here."

Ranma hesitated only a moment as he realized that this was it. He was here, he had made it, surpassed all obstacles, and now all he had to do to achieve the impossible was to jump into that blinding white bonfire. And hope that it actually worked and brought him back to life rather than burning his soul to a crisp.

He turned to Masakazu, but the tengu was already there shoving him toward the flame. "No time for goodbyes," he said. "Go. And tell Akane hi for me."

Ranma turned and clutched the tengu's feathered hand in his own. "I will," he said, "and thanks for everything."

With that, Ranma turned and jumped into the flame.

Masakazu shielded his eyes as a searing flash of light filled the clearing. A roaring noise, not coming from the approaching wind, blasted through him... and then the light and sound faded.

There was no sign of Ranma.

The phoenix clucked a little, folding in her wings. "I like him," she said. "Maybe I will look for him Mortal side."

"He's taken," Masakazu said mildly, suppressing a chuckle as the phoenix's head drooped a little. Then he shook his head in amazement. Ranma had done it.

But he had no time for personal celebrations, because at that moment, Tensei-kaze swept into the clearing with a roar of fury. She circled the clearing, approached the fire, and howled a cry of angry defeat. Masakazu suppressed the urge to gloat -- he certainly didn't want to draw attention to himself at that moment, and as far as he knew, Tensei-kaze only went after those who were scheduled for reincarnation. He most definitely wasn't.

With another cry of fury, Tensei-kaze flew out of the clearing and away.

"Well," said the phoenix, smoothing down ruffled feathers. "What was that all about?"

Masakazu merely shrugged. "Thank you, lady," he said, bowing to the phoenix, "for your generosity." The phoenix ducked her head and warbled softly, and the tengu took that as his cue to leave. As interesting as the phoenix had turned out to be, he didn't want to be anywhere near here when Tensei-kaze made her report to Emma-O.

What he failed to take into account, he realized later, was that Tensei-kaze was even more swift when she wasn't searching for fugitives who didn't want to be found, and Emma-O... well, he could be anywhere in his domain.

As he emerged from the realm of the souls of beasts, he found himself looking up at a very irritated Emma-O.

"Masakazu," the god growled.

Masakazu only had one relevant thought.

_Uh-oh_.

----------------

At the foot of the Ancient One's mountain, the growing pale light of dawn was obliterating the stars from the sky when Akane, exhausted and nearly dozing, felt Ranma's frozen, dead hand begin to grow warm in hers.

At first she thought she was dreaming... but then his hand grew even warmer, and her eyes flew open. "Ranma," she said, and she looked over at Yuki-onna, who was staring at Ranma in amazement, even as she stood and slowly backed away.

"Akane-chan," the Snow Woman said, smiling, "I cannot stay for this. I must say goodbye for now." And before Akane could protest, Yuki-onna faded from sight. But she didn't have time to wonder at Yuki-onna's words.

Ranma was glowing. Bright light seemed to emanate from under the surface of his skin. The ice and frost that encased him was melting quickly, even evaporating in steam, and his hand was growing warmer to the point where it was hot and burning her hand and she was forced to drop it against her will.

Then Ranma burst into white hot flame.

"Ranma!" Akane cried, and she had to back up because the heat was so intense.

Her shout brought the others scrambling from their tents to see what was going on. They stared, speechless, at the sight of Ranma's prone body engulfed in flame. His clothes turned to ash in moments, and for a terrifying moment Akane thought that Ranma's body would follow suit... but instead, the flame continued to burn, and the dried blood coating Ranma's skin disintegrated, and the terrible wound in his abdomen closed and disappeared. Scars, new and old, vanished under the white flame. Then, as if a tiny nova exploded in the center of his being, Ranma's body grew so bright that Akane and the others were forced to shield their eyes.

Slowly, the light faded. Akane stood, blinking against the after images, trying to see, her heart beating in her throat. "Ranma?" she whispered

She heard him take a breath. "Akane," he said.

Akane had never felt more joy than she did in that moment. Ranma sat up and reached for her, and she went to him, and then his strong, warm arms were around her and she buried her face into his shoulder and wept. She carefully placed her hand against the bare skin of his chest, and could feel his heart beating, strong and alive. "You did it," she whispered. "You came back."

"Hey," said Ranma, and she felt one of his hands reach up and gently stroke her hair, almost timidly. "I promised, and I always keep my promises."

She smiled. "With such proof as this, how could I ever doubt you again?"

"Well, I hope...." Ranma started, in what almost sounded like a teasing voice, when he trailed off. Akane looked at his face, his handsome face that she would never get tired of looking at for the rest of her life, and saw that he was blushing.

"Ah hell," said Ranma. "Why am I naked?"

Akane burst out laughing, tears streaming down her face. The laughter felt glorious, cleansing, and Akane felt the fears and worries of the last five years sloughing from her like an old skin. She felt as new and renewed as Ranma was in physical reality.

She turned and looked at her friends. Ryoga, Ukyo and Shampoo were wearing almost identical expressions of amazement. Mousse's eyes were wide behind his glasses, and Kuno seemed to be struggling to remain stoic in the face of what had just happened before his eyes. Nabiki... she was grinning like a little kid on Santa Day.

To Akane's surprise, it was Ukyo who managed to break out of her shock first. She quickly ran to her tent and was back in an instant with a blanket. "Here ya go, Ranchan," she said, carefully keeping her eyes on his face. She smiled. "Welcome back."

Ranma took the blanket and covered himself, still blushing. "Thanks, Ucchan."

"Any time," she said, and laughed as Akane's eyebrows raised. "Kidding, hon," she said to Akane with a wink.

"Hey, Ryoga," said Nabiki, "isn't Ranma's pack in your tent? Doesn't he have some spare clothes in that?"

Ryoga blinked, as if coming out of a daze. "Uh, yes. Yes, of course, I'll go get it."

Ranma stood after carefully wrapping the blanket around his waist, and helped Akane to her feet. She held his hand tightly, and he felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the phoenix fire that had brought him back. As Ryoga walked up to him, carrying his pack with his clothes, he couldn't help but wonder what this would mean for their friendship, now that the blood spell was broken and Ryoga remembered everything.

"Hey man," he said as Ryoga handed him the pack. "Thanks."

Ryoga just nodded. "No problem."

Ranma peered at him. "So.... are you...." he faltered, not wanting to provoke or embarrass him, especially when Ryoga couldn't be completely happy with how things had turned out.

But Ryoga just shook his head, looked at Akane, then gave him a half smile. "You came back from the dead for her, Ranma. What more is there to say?"

Ranma raised his eyebrows. "So... we're cool?"

Ryoga snorted, turned away and headed back to his tent. "Only as long as you treat her right. One misstep, Saotome, and I'll pulverize you."

Ranma grinned.

He looked around at the others and saw Shampoo and Mousse withdrawing to a far corner of the camp. He raised his hand in a wave, and they smiled and waved back, but made no move to intrude further on his and Akane's reunion.

Kuno, on the other hand.... Ranma groaned as Kuno quickly approached. Ranma had hoped he could at least get dressed first before having to deal with Kuno, but before he could even threaten the kendoist to leave him and Akane the hell alone, Akane squeezed his hand and whispered, "It's okay, don't worry," to his bafflement.

Kuno soberly gazed at him. "My congratulations on your successful return from the dead, Saotome," he said, then bowed. "At this time, I would like to offer my deepest apologies for my...."

There was a lot more that Kuno said after that, in extreme flowery language, but Ranma was too stunned to process it properly. When Kuno finished, Ranma blinked, and said, "Yeah, okay.... thanks. No problem." Kuno left, seeming satisfied, and Ranma looked at Akane. He was still getting used to them being about the same height, looking at her eye to eye, but it wasn't something he minded in the least. "So... what the hell was that?" he asked. "Is he for real?"

Akane just smiled and shrugged. "Well, he is for now. Here's hoping it lasts."

When she smiled, Ranma's heart thudded in his throat, and he felt caught by the light in her eyes as she looked at him.

"Um... Akane?"

"Yes, Ranma?"

"I, uh, kinda need to get dressed."

Akane snorted a laugh, and released his hand. "Go. Get dressed," she said. "But hurry back."

And Ranma hurried out of the clearing and dressed, marveling at the change in Akane, and the change in himself. He thought about the day he first met Akane. How she had walked in on him in the bath, and all the chaos that had ensued. Had it only been a little over a year ago?

Far longer for Akane, he realized. But though he had been without her for a mere month, it was enough for him to know that he never wanted to be separated from her again.

Dressed, and feeling a bit more dignified, he walked back into the clearing towards Akane, stopping right in front of her.

"Um... Akane?"

Akane smiled. "Yes, Ranma?"

He took a deep breath. "I... really want to kiss you."

Her smile turned dazzling and Ranma felt weak in the knees. "Okay," she said.

He swallowed. "You don't mind?"

"Of course not."

He glanced around out of the corner of his eye. "Everyone is watching us," he said.

"Nabiki can take pictures for all I care," Akane answered, and with that, Ranma finally realized that it was time. He closed the distance between them, gently took her face in his hands, even as her own arms went around him, and he kissed her.

Akane kissed him back quite thoroughly. It was a kiss with tears mingled with smiles, awkward starts and re-starts, but then they both quickly started getting the hang of it.

"Woo-hoo!" shouted Nabiki, somewhere off in the distance. "Go Akane!"

"About time, Saotome!" yelled Ryoga.

After, Ranma rested his forehead against hers. "I waited too long," he said. "I should have done this a long time ago."

Akane shook her head, reaching up to wipe the tears from his face and her own. "Let's not regret, Ranma. I spent too much time the past five years wishing I could have done things differently. But now here we are. Let's just go from here."

"I love you, Akane," said Ranma.

Akane choked out a laugh that was half sob. "I thought I'd never hear you say those words to me."

"Then I'll say it again," said Ranma. He had faced and defeated demons, gods, and his own worst nightmares, all for this. "I love you. And I promise you this, Akane. I will love you forever."

Akane believed him.

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End of Part Twenty-Four

Next: Epilogue: In which a few loose ends are tied up, and the rest is left to the imagination.


	26. Epilogue

The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi.

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Hearts of Ice

Epilogue

by Krista Fisk

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The mountains that surrounded the walled village of Nujiezu (known to Japanese outsiders as Joketsuzoku) were pale stone, bare of vegetation. The smooth peaks were devoid of rough edges, the stone having been worn smooth by ages of erosion. Legend said that the first Amazon woman had come into existence at the same time the mountains themselves were born of the earth, birthed by the same power. Some believed that the mountains housed the spirits of all Amazon ancestors.

Cologne looked on the mountains as she approached the village gate and, for the first time in her long life, rather than feeling uplifted with the pride of her tribe's strong, distinguished bloodline, felt as if she carried the weight of those mountains on her shoulders.

Two guards met her at the gate; girls she recognized, about Shampoo's age. They greeted her by name and she responded in turn.

"Inform Sheng Zhi that I have returned and that I require a meeting of the Elders," said Cologne.

One of the guards bowed slightly, and Cologne couldn't help but notice that the bow was not as deep as it should have been. "The Elders have already convened," the guard said. "They gathered as soon as the Watchers made them aware of your approach."

So, news of her failure had preceded her, but then she knew it would be painfully obvious since she was returning alone. Well, at least she wouldn't have to wait. Without another word, she left the guards at the gate and headed for the Hall of the Elders.

Cologne was expecting near darkness when she entered the windowless hall. Instead, the circular hall was filled with the glow of hundreds of lit candles. They must have indeed seen her coming from afar to be this prepared.

The Elders were already seated and waiting for her. Her seat was conspicuously empty, but she did not move to sit. Instead she stood before them, and looked into their faces. Most of the expressions that met her gaze were carefully blank, but Sheng Zhi, Weimen and Zongxian, three of her closest friends, looked at her with puzzled sadness.

Sheng Zhi spoke first. "Kho Lon," she said, "Where is Xian Pu, and where is her rightful husband?"

Cologne closed her eyes, surprised at how they suddenly stung. "Her rightful husband is dead, killed by demons," she said. Then she looked up at Sheng Zhi. "I saw his body myself, and bear witness of it."

Sheng Zhi's eyes widened in surprise. "Then you and Xian Pu are free from your obligation. Why, then, has she not returned with you?"

No need to draw it out, Cologne thought. Best make it quick and sharp. "Xian Pu has broken with the tribe," she said, an announcement that was greeted with various degrees of audible shock and disbelief from the Elders. "She has openly rebelled and has returned to Japan with Mu Tzu as her husband. And I... I have been defeated by an outsider. I was unable to administer the Kiss of Death afterward. I have returned to the tribe to restore the fallen honor of my family through the ritual of blood."

At this, the gasps and mutterings fell silent.

"This is a very serious thing you propose," said Sheng Zhi after a long moment. "Are you certain of your course of action?"

"Honored Sister," replied Cologne. "Since I received your letter a little over a month ago, I have done many things for the sake of fulfilling our obligations of honor and upholding our sacred traditions that have made my soul shrink. I took calculated risks that ended not only in failure, but in the death of the one who was the objective we sought. Over the course of these events, the heart of my great-granddaughter failed her, and she chose weakness over strength, and banishment over restoration to the tribe. I also inadvertently empowered my enemies and gave them the means by which to defeat me. For these crimes against the tribe and my ancestors, honor demands nothing less of me than the blood ritual. You know this as well as I, and for the sake of honor, I will not now hesitate to do what needs to be done to restore what has been lost."

Sheng Zhi regarded her soberly. Then she sighed. "So be it," she said, and her voice was barely above a whisper. "Who will witness?"

"I will bear witness," said Weimen.

"As will I," said Zongxian.

"Then I shall be the third," said Sheng Zhi.

With this announcement, the rest of the Elders stood and left the hall silently, each bowing deeply to Cologne as they passed her.

When none were left but Cologne and her witnesses, Sheng Zhi walked over to the altar that stood at the very back of the hall and retrieved an unremarkable wooden box.

Weimen reached out and put her hand on Cologne's good shoulder, observant of the injury in her other, and said, "I always believed you were the strongest among us, and this proves it. I shall not let this be forgotten."

"Thank you," said Cologne.

Zongxian just shook her head as Sheng Zhi returned with the wooden box. "Xian Pu and Mu Tzu. I thought she hated him."

"So did I," replied Cologne. "Perhaps she still might... but I think she hates being alone more."

"Mm. A terrible weakness."

Cologne nodded, wordlessly took the wooden box from Sheng Zhi's hands, and opened it. Inside lay the sacred dagger, the blade chiseled from the stone of the top-most peak of God Mountain Amesores. The blade had no hilt or guard. She took it up in her withered hands and felt the razor edge slice the skin. Blood began to trickle from her fingers.

She looked at each of her old friends, memories of older, better times filling her mind, and closed her eyes.

Sheng Zhi spoke, and her voice filled the hall. "Kho Lon, beloved matriarch of the Ancient Tribe, we three Elders witness this, your final act, and declare your honor unblemished before our ancestors, and swear that your name, and the names of your family, shall be spoken of with honor to our descendants until the end of time."

"Go in strength," said Zongxian.

"You will be missed," whispered Weimen.

_Shampoo_, thought Cologne. _I do this for love and honor of only you_.

_Please... be happy, child_.

Cologne plunged the dagger into her chest, aiming for her heart.

She did not miss, and as she fell, she caught the scent of mold on the wind and felt the caress of Yin Wu Ch'ang Kuei's cold, dead hand on her face....

-----------------------------

The Land of Yomi wasn't nearly as bad as he expected it to be, Masakazu mused as he sipped cold sake. Yes, it was underground in a deep cavern, but there was plenty of light. Aside from the perpetual blue flames that hovered around the deceased inhabitants, the city that seemed to stretch endlessly off in every direction had lit paper lanterns strung across every street. Stores bustled, inns made good business. He'd seen a few parties, a few street festivals. Dead people chatted, laughed, sulked, cried.

It wasn't great. But then, it wasn't all that bad either.

He had made this particular inn his home because it was close to a decent hot spring, and because the lady proprietor had died of a drug overdose, which made her one of the less gruesome dead people to be around. People in Yomi tended to wear their deaths like badges of pride. Still, Nakamura-san kept the place clean, Masakazu's room afforded him some privacy, and the public areas, such as the back patio where he now sat, leisurely setting up a Shogi board, didn't see much traffic when there was a festival nearby. Which was often.

Masakazu looked up as he heard the inn's front door open, and footsteps head his direction.

The cause of the footsteps, Susa-no-o, came around the corner. "Yo," the deity said with a cheeky grin and a hand raised in greeting.

Masakazu didn't even blink. "I expected you sooner," he said.

Susa-no-o frowned. "Come on. You're not even the least bit surprised to see me?"

Masakazu shook his head. "I figured they had to have caught you, when they came and let Hoso-no Kami out." He gestured for the man to sit on the other side of the Shogi board.

Susa-no-o did so, snorting his indignation. "They didn't catch me. I surrendered myself."

That _did_ surprise Masakazu. "What? Why would you do that?"

Obviously pleased that he had finally gotten a reaction out of his tengu friend, Susa-no-o smirked. "Well, for one thing, who in their right mind would want to spend one more moment than necessary in Hoso-no Kami's disgusting body?" Susa-no-o shuddered dramatically. "I only wanted to stick around long enough to see how things turned out. The Council, they're so ridiculous. As if sending me to Yomi was punishment. I guess they don't remember that Daddy Izanagi created me by washing off excess Yomi after he visited here trying to get Mom to leave. Had to 'purify' himself after coming to the land of the dead, and blew me right out of his nose." Susa-no-o threw up his hands and waved them in mock distress. "Oh, no, don't banish me to Yomi! Please, please, _please_ don't throw me in that there briar patch!"

Masakazu laughed. "I should have known."

"Eh, best you didn't. I would hate that overstuffed shirt, Emma-O, to realize that I like it here. It would make him all grumpy again. Better for our young mortal friends that he stays cheerful."

"And how _are_ our young mortal friends?"

Susa-no-o grinned. "Blissfully in love, of course. Just got back from their honeymoon."

Masakazu actually gaped. "What? You mean they got married? That quick?"

"Practically as soon as they got back to Japan and could get things arranged. Of course, with their dads, that didn't take long."

Masakazu shook his head. "Well, I figured Akane was ready... but I didn't expect Ranma to agree to it so soon."

Susan-no-o leaned over the Shogi board and whispered, "It was Ranma's idea."

"I don't believe you. Ranma? Ready for marriage?"

Susa-no-o chuckled. "I think he finally realized that, after coming to terms with his feelings for Akane, then facing down and utterly conquering his worst nightmares, and then even coming back from the dead all for the sake of the woman he loves... well, what could be so scary about marrying her?"

Masakazu barked a laugh. "He has no idea."

"That's right," Susa-no-o agreed seriously. "Dying is easy. Marriage is _hard_."

"That reminds me," said the tengu, offering the god a sake cup, "how is the missus?"

Susa-no-o took the cup, filled it from the jug Masakazu had on hand, and drained it in one gulp. "Ahhhh... Pretty sure she's not crying over me being banished to Yomi again."

Masakazu snorted, then gestured to the board. "So are we going to play or what?"

Pouring himself another cup of sake, Susa-no-o settled down comfortably on the other side of the board, drank, and immediately moved a piece. "Your turn."

Several turns later, while Susa-no-o was silently pondering his next move, Masakazu said, "Hey... so do you think they'll make it?"

Susa-no-o looked up. "Who, Ranma and Akane?" He laughed as if that was the craziest question he'd ever heard. "After everything they've been through to reach this point? Of course. Neither of them would ever be willing to conceded defeat, even if marriage is the hardest thing they'll ever do. Besides." Susa-no-o threw back another cup of sake. "It's True Love."

With a smile glinting in his black eyes, Masakazu nodded in agreement, and took a turn.

Susa-no-o didn't notice.

-----------------------------

Ryoga sat in his tent in the middle of the Japanese forest wilderness, reading a shonen manga in the grey light of a stormy afternoon. He was waiting for the rain to let up so that he could find some work since he was starting to run a bit low on funds, and this time of year he could usually find some farmer in need of hard labor who was willing to hire him on for a week or so. Sometimes longer, if he didn't inadvertently get lost in the meantime.

So, isolated as he was, he was surprised to hear the sound of someone calling his name over the incessant pounding of the rain against the tent. Moments later, that someone was at his tent flap.

"Ryoga? Hey, you decent in there?"

Ryoga blinked. "Nabiki?"

Nabiki lifted up the tent flap with one hand and peeked in. She was wearing a blue rain slicker and holding an umbrella in her other hand. "Ryoga? Mind if I come in? It's kind of wet out here."

Ryoga sighed. "Sure, Nabiki. And since you're here, I'm guessing I'm not in Yatsugatake, like I thought."

"Nope. You're in the woods next to Furinkan High."

Ryoga sighed again. He got lost so frequently in those woods, he thought he should be able to recognize _something_ by now. Apparently not. "So what can I do for you, Nabiki?" he asked as she sat down at the tent entrance, doing her best not to drip water deeper into the tent.

"Actually, I have something for you. A present from Ranma."

Ryoga raised his eyebrows in surprise. "From Ranma?"

"Yeah," said Nabiki, reaching into her jacket pocket. "He would have brought it himself, but, well, he said he didn't want to rub salt into your wounds so soon after... you know."

Ryoga smiled sadly. "Eh, it's okay. I'm over it, mostly."

Nabiki smirked. "Well, hopefully this will get you the rest of the way over it." She pulled her hand out of her pocket and held out a small, plain silver ring.

"A ring?" Ryoga shook his head, puzzled. "Okay, what's the joke?"

"Take a closer look, Ryoga. Notice anything familiar about the metal?"

Ryoga picked up the ring from Nabiki's outstretched palm and examined it. The silver band had a strange reddish tint to it. He blinked. "Wait," he said, and his heart pounded hard inside his chest. "Is this... this isn't..."

"It is," Nabiki said, grinning. "Ranma had rings made from that oni collar... and they work. That one is yours, Ryoga, magic intact."

Ryoga was so stunned, he couldn't think of anything to say. With shaking hands, he slipped the ring over his right index finger. The blood was pounding so hard inside his head that he almost couldn't hear Nabiki as she opened the tent flap, gestured outside, and said, "Go ahead, try it out."

Ryoga half stood, then hesitated. He didn't think Ranma would do this to trick him; not after everything that had happened. But... what if it didn't work? With his luck, he was probably immune or something. A cure, so close, right in his hand, and it probably didn't even--

Nabiki rolled her eyes in exasperation, grabbed Ryoga's arm, and pulled him outside into the downpour.

Ryoga stood, frozen in shock, soaking wet, as he quite definitely did not turn into a little black piglet.

Nabiki stood back and watched, enjoying the look of ecstatic joy that slowly blossomed on Ryoga's face.

He looked up into the storm, letting the rain pour into his face and raised his fists to the sky. "Ah-HA!" he cried. "At _LAST_!"

Nabiki laughed. "How does it feel?"

Ryoga wanted to stand out here in the rain forever. "Like a hot shower!" he said. "The rain is hot!"

"That's the ring," Nabiki said, watching as the rain steamed in the cool around Ryoga. "As long as you wear it, no cold water will ever touch you."

Ryoga closed his eyes, luxuriating in the feel of the water against his skin. Then, abruptly, he turned to Nabiki, earnestness in his features. "Tell Ranma thank you," he said. "This... this is more than I deserve."

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "Tell him yourself," she said. "We're having a celebration at my house tonight, and you're invited as one of the guests of honor. Kasumi, Ukyo and Shampoo are cooking fantastic food as we speak, so what do you say? Why don't you come back to the dojo with me and celebrate with your friends?"

Somewhere, deep in a dark corner of Ryoga's soul, a part of him wanted to say, no thank you. Celebrate without me, I don't really need to see Ranma and Akane together as husband and wife, even if they do think of me as their friend...

The rest of Ryoga, the part that, for the first time in a long time, saw real hope in the future, stomped on that deep dark part firmly. Ryoga found himself smiling at Nabiki and saying, "Okay."

It took him practically no time at all to pack, and as he followed Nabiki back to the Tendo Dojo where his friends waited, he couldn't help but think that today was a good day to be alive.

-----------------------------

Yuki-onna kept a silent vigil over her mortal friends.

Since parting with them in the Chinese wilderness, rather than returning to her realm in the Kami plane, Yuki-onna had chosen instead to follow. Akane and Ranma did not know, and Yuki-onna preferred it that way.

It helped that spring was slowly turning to summer, and the Snow Woman found that in the warming climate she was barely able to summon the strength to manifest herself as a physical presence. But she watched them all the same, a voiceless, invisible guardian from an encroaching danger that they did not imagine.

For she knew that, someday, _he_ would come. She had known it from the moment she realized the means by which Ranma had returned from death. He would come to claim what had been stolen out from under him in his own domain.

And, on the night of the celebration, in the early morning hours after the party had finally died down and both guests and hosts had gone to bed and were sleeping soundly... he finally came.

Emma-O was in a good mood. All that nasty business with Susa-no-o and Hoso-no Kami had finally been straightened out. The trickster deity was trapped in Yomi where he belonged, along with his tengu cohort, and seemed to be bearing his punishment well without attempting to torment his captor with his inane poetry. Emma-O's personal realm had been blessedly silent for a while. Now all that remained was this last loose end that needed tying up.

The boy was sleeping, curled protectively around a beautiful young woman with long dark hair who seemed quite content to be in his arms.

Emma-O frowned slightly. Normally he did not personally indulge in the collection of souls, but he had made an exception in this case. Now, as he stepped forward to pluck the impertinent boy's soul from his mortal shell, he paused a moment, imagining how the young woman would react to wake and find that her lover had died in his sleep. Not lover, _husband_, he realized as he saw the matching rings on their left hands, glinting in the moonlight that poured through the window. Certainly it would be a tragic scene... one he chose not to dwell on further.

This boy had dared defy his authority over the dead and had found a means to return to life without his power. This boy needed to be taught that one did not escape the inevitable that easily. It was time to end this farce now. The god of the dead leaned over and reached toward the boy's face.

"Emma-O..."

He turned at the voice, surprised to see an apparition, pale, translucent, with white flowing hair that fell to the floor, appear within the room. He was even more surprised a moment later when he realized that he recognized her. "Yuki-onna," he said. The hauntingly beautiful woman of the snow, who ofttimes served as his handmaiden in speeding souls to his realm.

"My lord," she said, and she knelt before him and bowed deeply, touching her forehead to the floor. "My lord, I beg of you. Please do not take this young man."

Emma-O raised his eyebrows. "My dear lady, why ever not? Surely you know as well as I that mortals cannot defy the gods without consequence."

"That is true, my lord," Yuki-onna replied, "but please." She looked up and Emma-O could see tears of ice slipping down her cheeks. "His death was my fault; the direct result of my collaboration with a terrible demon. I interfered in mortal affairs where I had no right or jurisdiction, and led that demon to him to satisfy a personal and ultimately petty desire for vengeance. Without my interference, this boy never would have died in the first place."

Emma-O straightened, and looked down at the boy again. "I see," he said, frowning thoughtfully. "However, that doesn't change the fact that he did die, and he deliberately defied my rules to return to the same mortal life he had lost. He broke the rules, and justice must be served."

Yuki-onna once again bowed her head to the floor. "Then I beg of you, my lord. Take my life in exchange for his."

"What?" Emma-O said, startled. "You, an immortal, wish to die? You wish to throw your life away for the sake of an insignificant mortal?"

"He is far from insignificant, my lord," Yuki-onna replied, and she looked up and regarded him soberly. "This is why I am here. I know that the demands of justice must be met, and so I offer you my life -- my immortal life -- in exchange for his defiance of death."

Well, this was not going at all the way Emma-O had imagined. He thought this would be a quick jaunt to the mortal realm, snag a soul, done and done, mess finally taken care of. This...

This beautiful woman, pleading so poignantly for justice to be met upon herself instead of the boy. Emma-O found his frown softening slightly as her icy tears continued to fall.

"Well," he said gruffly. "It's unconventional. But," he continued as a crestfallen look spread across her face, "I suppose I could do as you ask. _If_ this is what you truly desire."

The look of devastation was replaced with wild hope. "It is, my lord. This is what I desire. Take my life and spare the boy."

Emma-O sighed. "I do this for your sake, and for the sake of the ages of service you have faithfully rendered. Yuki-onna, rise and take my hand."

Incredulously, the Snow Woman stood, reached out and took his hand.

"Take one last look at this one for whom you sacrifice your life and tell me that this is what you want."

Yuki-onna looked down at Ranma and Akane. They slept peacefully, and even in their sleep, they looked happy.

She looked at Akane. _For you, my dear one._

She lifted her gaze and looked at Emma-O. "I desire nothing more than this. I am ready."

Emma-O looked at her, and deep black eyes seemed almost sad. "Then, my dear lady, I take your life for his."

Yuki-onna gasped as there was a sudden, wrenching pull....

-----------------------

...and she found herself under water, curled up, her arms wrapped around her knees, long dark hair floating around her. Instinctively she stretched out. Her feet touched ground and she stood, breaking through the surface of the water.

She was in a vast river. Confused, and a little afraid, she looked around, but couldn't see very much because of a mist that hovered just over the surface of the water, obscuring her vision.

She shivered. All those ages of acting as death's handmaiden, and she never really knew what happened to souls that had been freed from their mortal coil. What was to become of her now?

Whatever it was, she decided, she would face it. Accept it, no matter how hard or harsh her punishment might be.

The current caught her, tugged at her, and she found herself being pulled down stream.

After what seemed like ages, she finally caught a glimpse of something through the mist. The grassy bank of the river came into view, and she found herself being pulled toward it. Gratefully, she climbed out of the river, and, for the first time, she had a chance to get her bearings.

Looking down at herself, she saw that she was dressed in a simple cotton kimono. Her hair, she realized, was black rather than shimmering white. The color it had been during the all-too-brief time when she had been mortal.

Well, she mused. She was truly mortal in every sense of the word, now.

_But where do I go from here?_

The mists were thinning, and she could see trees. Cherry trees in bloom. And ahead, the warm light of day. Blue sky. She walked, hesitantly, carefully. This... seemed pleasant enough. Not at all what she was expecting.

And then, as kept walking, she realized... she recognized these trees.

She recognized this forest. She was walking a familiar path.

And there, up ahead, around the corner... she knew what would be there. A small, comfortable home in a clearing...

And there it was. But not just the home. There were people there, outside, a whole multitude it seemed, some sitting, some standing, all waiting.

Waiting for her, it seemed, for two young ladies at the front of the crowd caught sight of her and gasped, and they rushed towards her with smiles and tears and open arms...

... and Yuki-onna stood in shock as they swept her into an embrace and heard them call her Mother.

"Haru..." she whispered. "Natsu."

"Yes, yes, Mother," they answered, smiling. "Come, come with us and meet your family."

Yuki-onna stumbled forward in a daze, unable to comprehend it all. Grandchildren, her daughters said. And great-grandchildren. And great-great grandchildren. They all came to her with smiles and welcomes.

"You know, usually it's the ancestors who greet the descendants, not the other way around," said a teasing voice.

Yuki-onna turned, and there was Shin.

He smiled at her. "Yuki... beloved. Welcome home."

And it was only then, as she ran to his open arms that she realized she was crying, weeping tears of joy.

The tears on her face were warm.

-----------------------

Though they go mad,

they shall be sane

Though they sink through

the sea, they shall rise again

Though lovers be lost,

love shall not

And death shall have no dominion.

~Dylan Thomas

-----------------------

End of Hearts of Ice

June 20, 2009


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